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.