Robert Fergusson (1750-1774) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Born in theCap and Feather Close,
Jist aff the Royal Mile
Son o aTarland scholar,
Wi a gweed Scots tongue in his heid
Schuled at St Andrew's Varsity,
On a bursary frae his clan
He'd tae support his mither,
Eftir his faither deed

His uncle he disowned him
Forbes frae Auld Meldrum Toon
Sae Robert wirked as a copyist
Hard wirkin, aye heid doon

In Embro his friens wir actors,
Musicians, an booksellers
Artists, castratos, publishers
An theatre managers

A member o the Cape Club,
They met at a Craig's Close inn
Sir Henry Raeburndined there
Guid fellowship therein

Bit ae night Robert hytered
Doonstairs, a dreidfu faa
A coorse knell cloored his foreheid
It caad his wits awa

He wis sent tae Auld Reekie's madhoose,
Locked up an chyned tae a waa
In a damp cauld cell. On the flair
His bed wis tossed doon straa

A frien frae his university
Dr Duncan luiked on his face
An he got a begeck fin he saw him
He swore he'd cheenge thon place

It wis ower late fur Robert
He deid in the Bedlam there
They tuik him oot fur beerial
In an unmerked, unnamedlair

Bit his brither poet, Burns
Socht him oot an raised a stane
An on it screived a epitaph
Lat the warld ken his name

An gin yer in Auld Reekie,
Fin yer in the Canongate
Ye'll meet wi Annand's statue:
Rob strides oot, naethin blate!