“Non omnis moriar.” – CAR. III. 30.
IN vain the future snaps his fangs,
The tyke may rage – he canna wrangt’s,
I put my haund upon my sangs
Withoot a swither;
To me this monument belangs,
I need nae ither.
–
It’s no’ in granite to endoor,
Sandstane comes ripplin’ doon like stoor,
Marble – it canna stand the shoo’r,
It lasts nae time;
There’s naething yet has hauf the poo’r
O’ silly rhyme.
–
The pyramids hae tint their tale,
It’s lang sin’ they begoud to fail,
They’re either murlin’ doun to meal
Or fog-enwrappit,
While Homer at this hoor’s as hale
As e’er he stappit.
–
Sae I may say’t withoot a lee,
I dinna a’thegither dee;
Therefore forbear to greet for me
When I’m awa,
An’ keep a dry, a drouthie ee,
I chairge ye a’.
–
When at my door the hearse draws up
An’ Kate haunds roun’ the dirgy-cup,
Nae friend o’ mine will tak’ a sup
For that the less,
But calmly wi’ a steady grup
Cowp owre his gless.
–
The better part o’ me remains!
Whaur Allan Watter weets the plains,
An’ Devon, crystal but for rains,
Gangs wanderin’ wide,
Lang after me ye’ll hear my strains
On Ochilside.
