Amen and so mote it be.

I used only one poem in the Guid Scots Tongue last night in my immortal memmory address. The rest I chose to use were in standard English and pretty well unknown to the casul acquaintance of Burns.

This is one that I chose to demonstrate the real man of passion and feelings:

EPITAPH ON THE POET’S DAUGHTER
Here lie a rose, a budding rose,
Blasted before its bloom;
Whose innocence did sweets disclose,
Beyond that flower’s perfume.
To those who for her loss are grieved,
This consolation’s given –
She’s from a world of Woe relieved,
And blooms a rose in heaven.