mi March days, but nah it’s September: Ne’er to return again—them days are past. But a time aw remember aboon onny other, Aw kneeled o’ mi knees an’ sed the Lord’s Prayer; Aw sed “God bless mi father, an’ God bless mi mother,” It furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver aw ware. p. 23O Welcome, Lovely Summer. p. 23 O welcome, lovely summer, Wi’ thi golden days so long, When the throstle and the blackbird Do charm us wi’ ther song; When the lark in early morning Takes his aerial flight; An’ the humming bat an’ buzzard Frolic in the night. O! welcome, lovely summer, With her rainbow’s lovely form; Her thunner an’ her leetnin’, An’ her grandeur in the storm: With her sunshine an’ her shower, An’ her whirlin’ of the dust, An’ the maiden with her flagon, To sleck the mower’s thirst. O! welcome, lovely summer, When the woods wi’ music ring, An’ the bees so heavy laden, To their hives their treasures bring: When we seek some shady bower, Or some lovely little dell, Or, bivock in the sunshine, Besides some cooling well. O! welcome, lovely summer, With her roses in full bloom; When the cowslaps an’ the laalek Deck the cottage home; p. 24When the cherry an’ the berry Give a grandeur to the charm; And the clover and the haycock Scent the little farm. p. 24 O! welcome, lovely summer, Wi’ the partridge on the wing; When the tewit an’ the moorgam, Up fra the heather spring, From the crowber an’ the billber, An’ the bracken an’ the whin; As from the noisy tadpole, We hear the crackin’ din. O! welcome, lovely summer. Burns’s Centenary. Go bring that tuther whisky in, An’ put no watter to it; Fur I mun drink a bumper off, To Scotland’s darlin’ poet. It’s just one hunderd year to-day, This Jenewarry morn, Sin’ in a lowly cot i’ Kyle, A rustic bard wur born. He kittled up his muirland harp, To ivvery rustic scene; An’ sung the ways o’ honest men, His Davey an’ his Jean. p. 25There wur nivver a bonny flaar that grew Bud what he could admire; There wur nivver lovely hill or dale That suited not his lyre. p. 25
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