epitaph on holy willie
here holy willie's sair worn clay
taks up its last abode;
his saul has ta'en some other way,
i fear, the left-hand road.
stop! there he is, as sure's a gun,
poor, silly body, see him;
nae wonder he's as black's the grun,
observe wha's standing wi' him.
your brunstane devilship, i see,
has got him there before ye;
but haud your nine-tail cat a wee,
till ance you've heard my story.
your pity i will not implore,
for pity ye have nane;
justice, alas! has gi'en him o'er,
and mercy's day is gane.
but hear me, sir, deil as ye are,
look something to your credit;
a coof like him wad stain your name,
if it were kent ye did it.