'Forbye some new uncommon weapons,-- [Besides] _Urinus spiritus_ of capons; Or mite-horn shavings, filings, scrapings, Distill'd _per se_; _Sal-alkali_ o' midge-tail clippings, And mony mae.' [more]
'Wae's me for Johnny Ged's Hole now,' [the grave-digger's] Quoth I, 'if that thae news be true! [those] His braw calf-ward whare gowans grew [grazing-plot, daisies] Sae white and bonnie, Nae doubt they'll rive it wi' the plew; [split] They'll ruin Johnie!'
The creature grain'd an eldritch laugh, [groaned, weird] And says: 'Ye needna yoke the pleugh, Kirk-yards will soon be till'd eneugh, Tak ye nae fear; They'll a' be trench'd wi' mony a sheugh [ditch] In twa-three year.
'Where I kill'd ane, a fair strae-death, [straw (i.e., bed)] By loss o' blood or want o' breath, This night I'm free to tak my aith [oath] That Hornbook's skill Has clad a score i' their last claith, [cloth] By drap and pill.
'An honest wabster to his trade, [weaver by] Whase wife's twa nieves were scarce weel-bred, [fists] Gat tippence-worth to mend her head When it was sair; [aching] The wife slade cannie to her bed, [slid quietly] But ne'er spak mair.
'A country laird had ta'en the batts, [botts] Or some curmurring in his guts, [commotion] His only son for Hornbook sets, An' pays him well: The lad, for twa guid gimmer-pets, [pet-ewes] Was laird himsel.
'A bonnie lass, ye kenn'd her name, Some ill-brewn drink had hov'd her wame; [raised, belly] She trusts hersel, to hide the shame, In Hornbook's care; Horn sent her aff to her lang hame, To hide it there.
'That's just a swatch o' Hornbook's way; [sample] Thus goes he on from day to day, Thus does he poison, kill an' slay, An's weel pay'd for't; Yet stops me o' my lawfu' prey Wi' his damn'd dirt.
'But, hark! I'll tell you of a plot, Tho' dinna ye be speaking o't; I'll nail the self-conceited sot As dead's a herrin': Niest time we meet, I'll wad a groat, [Next, wager] He gets his fairin'!'
But, just as he began to tell, The auld kirk-hammer strak the bell [struck] Some wee short hour ayont the twal, [beyond, twelve] Which rais'd us baith: [got us to our feet] I took the way that pleas'd mysel, And sae did Death.
A few miscellaneous poems remain to be quoted. These do not naturally fall into any of the major glasses of Burns's work, yet are too important either for their intrinsic worth or the light they throw on his character and genius to be omitted. The Elegies, of which he wrote many, following, as has been seen, the tradition founded by Sempill of Beltrees, may be exemplified by _Tam Samson's Elegy_ and that on Captain Matthew Henderson. Special phases of Scottish patriotism are expressed in _Scotch Drink_, and the address _To a Haggis_; while more personal is _A Bard's Epitaph_. In this last we have Burns's summing up of his own character, and it closes with his recommendation of the virtue he strove after but could never attain.