The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill With biography, illustrations, and music |
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STANZAS.
WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL ON THE GRAVESTONE OF A DEPARTED FRIEND. |
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 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
STANZAS. WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL ON THE GRAVESTONE OF A DEPARTED FRIEND.
Stop, passenger—here muse a while:
Think on his darksome, lone abode,
Who late, like thee, did jocund smile,
Now lies beneath this cold green sod.
Think on his darksome, lone abode,
Who late, like thee, did jocund smile,
Now lies beneath this cold green sod.
Art thou to vicious ways inclin'd,
Pursuing pleasure's flow'ry road?
Know—fell remorse shall rack thy mind,
When tott'ring to thy cold green sod.
Pursuing pleasure's flow'ry road?
Know—fell remorse shall rack thy mind,
When tott'ring to thy cold green sod.
If thou a friend to virtue art,
Oft pitying burden'd misery's load;
Like thee, he had a feeling heart
Who lies beneath this cold green sod.
Oft pitying burden'd misery's load;
Like thee, he had a feeling heart
Who lies beneath this cold green sod.
With studious, philosophic eye
He look'd through Nature up to God;
His future hope his greatest joy,
Who lies beneath this cold green sod.
He look'd through Nature up to God;
His future hope his greatest joy,
Who lies beneath this cold green sod.
Go, passenger—revere this truth:
A life well spent in doing good
Soothes joyless age, and sprightly youth,
When drooping o'er the cold green sod.
A life well spent in doing good
Soothes joyless age, and sprightly youth,
When drooping o'er the cold green sod.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |