Epitaph For Robert Fergusson, Poet
No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay,
'No story'd urn nor animated bust;'
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way
To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust.
She mourns, sweet, tuneful youth, thy hapless fate,
Tho' all the pow'rs of song thy fancy fir'd;
Yet luxury and wealth lay by in state,
And thankless starv'd what they so much admir'd.
This humble tribute with a tear he gives,
A brother Bard, he can no more bestow;
But dear to fame thy song immortal lives,
A nobler monument than art can show.