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Poem by Robert Burns

Epigram Written at Inverary

WHOEER he be that sojourns here,
  I pity much his case,
Unless he come to wait upon
  The Lord their God, his Grace.
Theres naething here but Highland pride.
  And Highland scab and hunger;
If Providence has sent me here.
  Twas surely in his anger.

                      Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Mark Yonder Pomp
  2. By Allan Stream
  3. Theres News, Lasses
  4. Scroggam
  5. Theres a Youth in This City

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