Poem by Robert Burns

Epigram on Elphinstone’s Translation of Martial’s Epigrams

O thou whom Poetry abhors,
Whom Prose has turned out of doors,
Heard’st thou yon groan?-proceed no further,
’Twas laurel’d Martial calling murther.

1. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
2. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face
3. Simmer’s a Pleasant Time
4. Fairest Maid on Devon Banks
5. The Bonnie Wee Thing

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