To Mr. Robert Burns on His Erecting a Stone to the Memory of Ferguson
I.
Beneath this stone, to merit rais'd,
Lies F ERGUSON , a name that's prais'd
And lov'd by ev'ry Scot;
Complete alike in head and heart,
But wanting in the prudent part,
He prov'd the poet's lot.
II.
Let mem'ry hold his merits dear,
And pity o'er his fate a tear
Of kind oblivion shed:
And mayst thou, Burns ! more happy bard,
Receive, while living, thy reward!
Nor honour'd less, when dead.
III.
A stone to him, to whom belong
The honours, next to thee, of song,
It well becomes to raise.
A deed like this may justly claim
A meed more glorious to thy name
Than all the pride of lays.
Beneath this stone, to merit rais'd,
Lies F ERGUSON , a name that's prais'd
And lov'd by ev'ry Scot;
Complete alike in head and heart,
But wanting in the prudent part,
He prov'd the poet's lot.
II.
Let mem'ry hold his merits dear,
And pity o'er his fate a tear
Of kind oblivion shed:
And mayst thou, Burns ! more happy bard,
Receive, while living, thy reward!
Nor honour'd less, when dead.
III.
A stone to him, to whom belong
The honours, next to thee, of song,
It well becomes to raise.
A deed like this may justly claim
A meed more glorious to thy name
Than all the pride of lays.
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