UPON THE DEATH OF OLD MR PATRICK PURDIE, 54 YEARS MINISTER OF THE CHURCH OF NEWLANDS .

F AREWELL all joy, ye mournful souls come near,
And view what doleful spectacle is here.
Ah! aged father Purdie now lies dead,
The poor's plight anchor in their time of need;
Fourscore and four years must these hands destroy,
That caus'd the widow's heart to sing for joy.
God hath that soul translated now to heaven,
And all his peccadilios here forgiven;
Who to his dying day did never tire
To feed and lodge a Lazarus at his fire;
A man ingenuous far beyond the fashion,
Wholly compos'd of pity and compassion.
Afflicted Newlands, mourn for his decease,
Who still liv'd with thee in perpetual peace;
Gratis he taught, which all men much admire,
His parish poor, full four and forty year;
Grammar to some, others to write and read,
And warded many a blow from Priscian's head.
Let all this be engraven upon his hearse,
Who living was most liberal of his verse.
So, friends, farewell, give every one his due,
Write it who will, this Epitaph is true.