ON THE DEATH OF ROBERT ALEXANDER,

OF BLACKHOUSE .

Thou sable-border'd sheet, begone!
 Harbour to thee I must refuse;
Sure thou canst welcome find from none,
 Who carriest such ungrateful news.

Who can attend thy mournful tale,
 And ward his soul from piercing woe?
In viewing thee, grief must prevail,
 And tears from gushing eyes o'erflow.

From eyes of all that knew the man,
 And in his friendship had a share,
Who all the world's affections won,
 By virtues that all nat'ral were.

His merits dazzle, while we view!
 His goodness is a theme so full,
The Muse wants strength to pay what 's due,
 While estimation prompts the will.

But she endeavours to make known
 To farthest down posterity,
That good Blackhouse was such an one,
 As every one should wish to be.