To Charles Baxter

by Robert Louis Stevenson

 OUR Johnie's deid.
 The mair's the pity!
He's deid, an' deid o' Aqua-vitae.

O Embro', you're a shrunken city,
Noo Johnie's deid!
Tak hands, an' sing a burial ditty
Ower Johnie's heid.

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Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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