write in Lallan, Dear to my heart as the peat reek, Auld as Tantallon.

p. 78

“Few spak it then, an’ noo there’s nane. My puir auld sangs lie a’ their lane, Their sense, that aince was braw an’ plain, Tint a’thegether, Like runes upon a standin’ stane Amang the heather.

“But think not you the brae to speel; You, tae, maun chow the bitter peel; For a’ your lear, for a’ your skeel, Ye’re nane sae lucky; An’ things are mebbe waur than weel For you, my buckie.

p. 79“The hale concern (baith hens an’ eggs, Baith books an’ writers, stars an’ clegs) Noo stachers upon lowsent legs An’ wears awa’; The tack o’ mankind, near the dregs, Rins unco law.

p. 79

“Your book, that in some braw new tongue, Ye wrote or prentit, preached or sung, Will still be just a bairn, an’ young In fame an’ years, Whan the hale planet’s guts are dung About your ears;

“An’ you, sair gruppin’ to a spar Or whammled wi’ some bleezin’ star, Cryin’ to ken whaur deil ye are, Hame, France, or Flanders— Whang sindry like a railway car An’ flie in danders.”

p. 80II—ILLE TERRARUM

p. 80

Frae nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ breeze, Frae Norlan’ snaw, an’ haar o’ seas, Weel happit in your gairden trees, A bonny bit, Atween the muckle Pentland’s knees, Secure ye sit.

Frae

Beeches an’ aiks entwine their theek, An’ firs, a stench, auld-farrant clique. A’ simmer day, your chimleys reek, Couthy and bien; An’ here an’ there your windies keek Amang the green.

p. 81A pickle plats an’ paths an’ posies, A wheen auld gillyflowers an’ roses: A ring o’ wa’s the hale encloses Frae sheep or men; An’ there the auld housie beeks an’ dozes, A’ by her lane.

p. 81

The gairdner crooks his weary back A’ day in the pitaty-track, Or mebbe stops awhile to crack Wi’ Jane the cook, Or at some buss, worm-eaten-black, To gie a look.

Frae the high hills the curlew ca’s; The sheep gang baaing by the wa’s; Or whiles a clan o’ roosty craws Cangle thegether; The wild bees seek the gairden raws, Weariet wi’ heather.

 Prev. P 40/55 next