The Passing of the Poet

"Can storied urn or animated bustBack to its mansion call the fleeting breath?Can honour's voice invoke the silent dustOr flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?"

"The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious faceThey round the ingle form in a circle wide;The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride:His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare:Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,He wales a portion wi' judeecious care."