Poem by Robert Burns

Epitaph on Walter Riddell

Sic a reptile was Wat,
  Sic a miscreant slave,
That the worms ev’n damn’d him
  When laid in his grave.
‘In his flesh there’s a famine,’
  A starv’d reptile cries;
‘An’ his heart is rank poison,’
  Another replies.

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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