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　　The Epitaph

　　Stop, passenger! my story's brief,

　　And truth I shall relate, man;

　　I tell nae common tale o' grief,

　　For Matthew was a great man.

　　If thou uncommon merit hast,

　　Yet spurn'd at Fortune's door, man;

　　A look of pity hither cast,

　　For Matthew was a poor man.

　　If thou a noble sodger art,

　　That passest by this grave, man;

　　There moulders here a gallant heart,

　　For Matthew was a brave man.

　　If thou on men, their works and ways,

　　Canst throw uncommon light, man;

　　Here lies wha weel had won thy praise,

　　For Matthew was a bright man.

　　If thou, at Friendship's sacred ca',

　　Wad life itself resign, man:

　　Thy sympathetic tear maun fa',

　　For Matthew was a kind man.

　　If thou art staunch, without a stain,

　　Like the unchanging blue, man;

　　This was a kinsman o' thy ain,

　　For Matthew was a true man.

　　If thou hast wit, and fun, and fire,

　　And ne'er guid wine did fear, man;

　　This was thy billie, dam, and sire,

　　For Matthew was a queer man.

　　If ony whiggish, whingin' sot,

　　To blame poor Matthew dare, man;

　　May dool and sorrow be his lot,

　　For Matthew was a rare man.

　　But now, his radiant course is run,

　　For Matthew's was a bright one!

　　His soul was like the glorious sun,

　　A matchless, Heavenly light, man. Poems and Songs of Robert Burns