Poem by Robert Burns

Epigram on Captain Francis Grose, the Celebrated Antiquary

The Devil got notice 
		that Gross was a-dying,
So whip! at the summons, 
		old Satan came flying;
But when he approach’d 
		where poor Francis lay moaning,
And saw each bed-poet 
		with its burden a-groaning,
Astonish’d, confounded, 
		cried Satan, ‘By God,
I’ll want ’im, ere I take 
		such a damnable load.’

1. Their Groves O’ sweet Myrtle
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
4. Gala Water
5. Stay My Charmer

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