[Maxwell was a skilful physician; and Jessie Staig, the Provost’s oldest daughter, was a young lady of great beauty: she died early.]
Maxwell, if merit here you crave
That merit I deny,
You save fair Jessie from the grave—
An angel could not die.
LIV.
EPITAPH.
[These lines were traced by the hand of Burns on a goblet belonging to Gabriel Richardson, brewer, in Dumfries: it is carefully preserved in the family.]
Here brewer Gabriel’s fire’s extinct,
And empty all his barrels:
He’s blest—if, as he brew’d, he drink—
In upright virtuous morals.