The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Epitaph on Holy Willie

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see Epitaph on Holy Willie.

Epitaph on Holy Willie.

Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay
Taks up its last abode;
His saul has taen some other way,
I fear the left-hand 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 Deevilship, I see,
Has got him there before ye;
But haud your nine-tail'd cat a wee,
Till ance you've heard my story.

Your pity I will not implore,
For pity ye hae nane;
Justice. alas! has gi'en him o'er,
And mercy's day is gaen.

But hear me, Sir, deil as you are,
Look something to your credit;
A coof like him wad stain your name,
If it were kent ye did it.