Explore "The Bard at Inverary" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Whoe'er he be that sojourns here, / I pity much his case, / Unless he comes to wait upon / The Lord their God, His Grace.
There's naething here but Highland pride, / And Highland scab and hunger: / If Providence has sent me here, / 'Twas surely in his anger.