Poem by Robert Burns

Epigram («When ––– , deceased, to the devil went down…»)

When ––– , deceased, to the devil went down,
’Twas nothing would serve him but Satan’s own crown;
‘Thy fool’s head,’ quoth Satan, ‘that crown shall wear never,
I grant thou’rt as wicked, but not quite so clever.’

1. Canst Thou Leave Me Thus?
2. Address to General Dumourier
3. O Wha is She that Lo’es Me?
4. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
5. The Cardin’ O’t

Print

4760 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version