Robert Burns

Nicholas Toms Carrington, "Lines written at the Grave of Burns, before the Commencement of the Subscription for erecting a Monument to his Memory" Banks of Tamar (1820) 136-37.

Let Spring with liberal hand bedeck the sward,
And shed her glories o'er the fallen bard;
Here his own daisy should, on slender stem,
Wave o'er the Poet's grave its "bonnie gem;"
Here, carolling to heav'n, from "milk white thorn,"
Should burst the choicest melodies of morn;
Aye, here a pile should rise upon the view,
Nobler than Eastern Monarch ever knew.

With tearful eye pale CALEDONIA mourns,
Sky rapt or earth beguil'd — her darling BURNS;
And soon the land that gave the "Bardie" birth,
Shall raise the pile o'er this all-hallowed earth.
But though the rank grass o'er his head should wave,
Nor song should bless, nor flowers bedeck his grave,
Nor monumental lay deplore the doom,
Of Genius, sinking to an early tomb,
Yet round his name shall Glory's halo sweep,
Through days to come — through ages yet that sleep;
And his lov'd COILA shall exulting cry,
"Thy fame, my matchless son, can NEVER die."