Epitaph On Holy Willie.
By Robert Burns
Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay Takes 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 hand your nine-tail cat a wee, Till ance you've heard my story. Your pity I will not implore, For pity ye hae nane; Justice, alas! has gi'en him o'er, And mercy's day is gaen. 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.
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"Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay..."
Robert Burns's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Epitaph On Holy Willie."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...