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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416277" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Elegy Upon James Therburn, In Chatto</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, Chatto, you're a dreary place,<br>Pale sorrow broods on ilka face;<br>Therburn has run his race.<br>And now, and now, ah me, alas!<br>The carl lies dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Having his paternoster said,<br>He took a dram and went to bed;<br>He fell asleep, and death was glad<br>That he had catched him; <br>For Therburn was e'en ill bested,<br>That none did watch him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For had the carl but been aware,<br>That meagre death, who none does spare,<br>T'attempt sic things should ever dare,<br>As stop his pipe;<br>He might have come to flee or scare;<br>The greedy gripe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How he'd had but a gill or twae,<br>Death would nae got the victory sae,<br>Nor put poor Therburn o'er the brae,<br>Into the grave;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [1]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fumbling fellow, some folks say, <br>Should be jobbed on baith night and day;<br>She had without'en better play,<br>Remained still,<br>Barren for ever and for aye,<br>Do what he will. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Therefore they say he got some help<br>In getting of the little whelp;<br>But passing that, it makes me yelp,<br>But what remead?<br>Death lent him sic a cursed skelp,<br>That now he's dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Therburn, for evermore farewell,<br>And be thy grave both dry and deep;<br>And rest thy carcase soft and well,<br>Free from . . . . . . . . . .<br>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . no night . . . . . . <br>Disturb . . . . . . . . . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Thomson">James Thomson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416277" data-title="An Elegy Upon James Therburn, In Chatto de James Thomson" data-description="Now, Chatto, you're a dreary place,
Pale sorrow broods on ilka face;
Therburn has run his race.
And now, and now, ah me, alas!
The carl lies dead.

Having his paternoster said,
He took a dram and went to bed;
He fell asleep, and death was glad
Tha..."></div>
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