epitaph on holy willie
    here holy willie's sair worn clay
    taks up its last abode;
    his saul has ta'en some other way,
    i fear, the lefthand road.
    stop! there he is, as sure's a gun,
    poor, silly body, see him;
    nae wonder he's as black's the grun,
    observe wha's standing wi' him.
    your brunstane devilship, i see,
    has got him there before ye;
    but haud your ninetail cat a wee,
    till ance you've heard my story.
    your pity i will not implore,
    for pity ye have nane;
    justice, alas! has gi'en him o'er,
    and mercy's day is gane.
    but hear me, sir, deil as ye are,
    look something to your credit;
    a coof like him wad stain your name,
    if it were kent ye did it.