Poem by Robert Burns

Epitaph on a Celebrated Ruling Elder

Here souter Hood in Death does sleep;
         To Hell, if he’s gone thither,
Satan, gie him thy gear to keep,
         He’ll haud it weel thegither.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Stay My Charmer
5. On a Bank of Flowers

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