S O Th D h O R R（1 / 1）

n on the death of robert riddell

of glenriddell and friars&039; carse

no ore, ye warblers of the wood! no ore;

nor pour your descant gratg on y ul;

thou young-eyed sprg! gay thy verdant stole,

ore wele were to gri ter&039;s wildest roar

how can ye char, ye flowers, with all your dyes?

ye blow upon the d that wraps y friend!

how can i to the tuneful stra attend?

that stra flows round the untily tob where riddell lies

yes, pour, ye warblers! pour the notes of woe,

and othe the virtues weepg o&039;er his bier:

the an of worth—and hath not left his peer!

is his “narrow hoe,” for ever darkly low

thee, sprg! aga with joy shall others greet;

, ory of y loss will only et