Classic Poem

Born, September 5th, 1751—Died 16th October, 1774

No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay,
‘No story'd urn nor animated bust;’
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way
To pour her sorrows o'er her Poet's dust.

[She mourns, sweet, tuneful youth, thy hapless fate,
Tho' all the pow'rs of song thy fancy fir'd;
Yet Luxury and Wealth lay by in state,
And thankless starv'd what they so much admir'd.

This humble tribute with a tear he gives,
A brother Bard, he can no more bestow;
But dear to fame thy Song immortal lives,
A nobler monument than Art can show.]