Rough Scan


I HAE been blithe wi' comrades dear;
=I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu' gath'rin' gear;
=I hae been happy thinking:
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
=Tho' three times doubl'd fairly,
That happy night was worth them a',
=Amang the rigs o' barley.

=======_Robert Burns_.


IT'S hardly in a body's pow'r
To keep, at times, frae being sour,
=To see how things are shar'd;
How best o' chiels are whi1es in want,
While coofs on countless thousands rant,
=And ken na how to wair't;
But, Davie, lad, ne'er fash your head,
=Tho' we hae little gear,
We're fit to win our daily bread,
=As lang's we're hale and fier:
=="Mair spier na, nor fear na,"
===Auld age ne'er mind a feg,
==The last o't, the warst o't,
===Is only but to beg.

To lie in kilns and barns at e'en,
When banes are craz'd, and bluid is thin,
=Is, doubtless, great distress!
Yet then content could make us blest;
Ev'n then, sometimes, we'd snatch a taste
=Of truest happiness.
The honest heart that's free frae a'
=Intended fraud or guile,
However Fortune kick the ba',
=Has aye some cause to smile
==And mind still, you'll find still,
===A comfort this nae sma'
==Nae mair then, we'll care then,
===Nae farther can we fa'.

What tho', like commoners of air,
We wander out we know not where,
=But either house or hal'?
Yet Nature's charms, the hills and woods,
The sweeping vales, and foaming floods,
=Are free alike to all.
In days when daisies deck the ground,
=And blackbirds whistle clear,
With honest joy our hearts will bound
=To see the coming year:
==On braes when we please, then,
===We'll sit an' sowth a tune:
==Syne rhyme till 't, we'll time till 't,
===And sing 't when we hae done.

It's no in titles nor in rank:
It's no in wealth like Lon'on bank,
=To purchase peace and rest:
It's no in makin' muckle mair;
It's no in books, it's no in lear,
=To make us truly blest;
If happiness hae not her seat
=And centre in the breast,
We may be wise, or rich, or great,
=But never can be blest:
==Nae treasures, nor pleasures,
===Could make us happy lang:
==The heart ay 's the part ay
===That makes us right or wrang.

=======_Robert Burns_.


WHEN I have done consider
=This warldis vanitie,
Sa brukil and sa slidder,
=Sa full of miserie;
=Then I remember me
That here there is no rest;
=Therefore apparentlie
To be merrie is best.

Let us be blyth and glad,
=My friendis all, I pray.
To be pensive and sad
=Na thing it help us may.
=Therefore put quite away
All heaviness of thocht:
=Thoch we murne nicht and day
It will avail us nocht.

=======_Sir Richard Maitland_.


===="Be mirry and glaid and honest and vertuous,
====For that sufficis to anger the invyous."

BE mirry, man! and tak nocht far in mynd
=The wavering of this wrechit warld of sorrow;
To God be humill, and to thy freynd be kynd,
=And with thy nychtbouris glaidly len and borrow;
=His chance to-nicht it may be thine to-morrow.
Be blyth in hairt for ony aventure,
=For oft with wysmen it hes bene said aforrow:
"Without glaidness availis no tressour."

Mak thee gude cheer of it that God thee sendis,
=For warldis wrak but weilfair nocht availis;
Na gude is thyne saif only bot thow spendis,
=Remenant al thow brukis bot with bailis;
=Seek to solace when sadness thee assailis,
In dolour lang thy lyfe may nocht indure;
=Whairfoir of confort set up all thy sailis:
Without glaidnes availis no tresour.

Follow on pitie, flee truble and debait;
=With famous folkis hald thy company,
Be charitabill and humill in thyne estait,
=For waridly honour lastis bot a cry;
=For truble in erd tak no malloncoly;
Be rich in patience, gif thow in gudis be puir;
=Who levis mirry, he levis michtely:
Without glaidnes availis no tresour.

Thou seis thir wrechis set with sorrow and cair,
=To gaddir gudis in all thair lyvis space,
And when their baggis are full, their selfis are bair,
=And of thair richess bot the keping hess;
=Whill otheris come to spend it that hes grace,
Whilk of the wynning no labour had nor cure;
=Tak thow example, and spend with mirriness:
Without glaidnes availis no tresour.

Thoch all the werk that evir had levand wicht
=Were only thine, no moir thy pairt dois fall,
Bot meit, drynk, clais, and of the laif a sicht,
=Yit to the juge thow sall gif compt of all;
=Ane raknyng rycht cumis of ane ragment small:
Be just and joyous, and do to none injure,
=And trewth sall mak thee strang as ony wall:
Without glaidness availis no tresure.

=======_William Dunbar_.


IT'S no aye rainin' on the misty Achils,
=It's no' aye white wi' winter on Nigour;
The winds are no' sae mony sorrowin' Rachels,
=That grieve, and o' their grief will no' gie owre.

Dark are Benarty slopes, an' the steep Lomon'
=Flings a lang shadow on the watter plain;
But fair Lochieven 's no' for ever gloomin',
=An' Devon 's no' aye dark wi' Lammas rain.

The birks tho' bare, an' the sune-naked ashes,
=Not always widow'd of their leaves appear;
The oaks cry oot beneath November's lashes,
=But not for all the months that mak' the year.

Comes round a time, comes round at last tho' creepin',
=And green and glad again stand buss an' tree;
E'en tender gowans, thro' the young gress peepin',
=Rise in their weakness, and owre-rin the lea.

Thus Nature sorrows, and forgets her sorrow;
=And Reason soberly approves her way:
Why should we shut oor een against to-morrow
=Because our sky was clouded yesterday?

=======_James Logie Robertson_.


FULL oft I muse and has in thocht
How this fals warld is ay on flocht,
Whair no thing ferme is nor degest;
And when I haif my mynd all socht,
For to be blyth me think it best.

This warld evir dois flicht and wary,
Fortoun sa fast hir wheill dois cary;
Na tyme bot turne can tak rest;
For whois fals change suld none be sary;
For to be blyth me think it best.

Wald men considdir in mynd richt weill,
Or fortoun on him turn hir wheill,
That erdly honour may nocht lest,
His fall less paneful he suld feill;
For to be blyth me think it best.

Wha with this warld dois warsill and stryfe,
And dois his dayis in dolour dryfe,
Thoch he in lordschip be possest,
He levis bot ane wrechit lyfe
For to be blyth me think it best.

Of warldis gud and grit richess,
What fruct hes man but miriness?
Thoch he this warld had eist and west,
All wer pouertie but glaidness;
For to be blyth me think it best.

Who suld for tynsall droup or de
For thyng that is bot vanitie,
Sen to the lyfe that evir dois lest
Heir is bot twynkling of ane Ee;
For to be blyth me think it best.

Had I for warldis unkyndness
In hairt tane ony haviness,
Or fro my plesans bene opprest,
I had bene deid langsyne, doutless;
For to be blyth me think it best.

How evir this warld do change and vary
Lat us in hairt nevir moir be sary,
Bot evir be reddy and addrest
To pass out of this fraudfull fary;
For to be blyth me think it best.

=======_William Dunbar_.


OFF Lentren in the first mornyng,
Airly as did the day upspring,
Thus sang ane bird with voce upplane,
"All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"O man! haif mynd that thow mon pass;
Remembir that thow art bot ass,
And sall in ass return agane;
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"Haif mynd that eild ay followis youth;
Deth followis lyfe with gaipand mouth,
Devoring fruct and flowring grane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"Welth, wardly gloir, and riche array
Ar all bot thornis laid in thy way,
Ourcouerd with flouris laid in ane trane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"Come nevir yit May so fresche and grene,
Bot Januar come als wod and kene;
Wes nevir sic drouth bot anis come rane:
All erdily joy returnis in pane.

"Evirmair unto this warldis joy
As nerrest air succeidis noy;
Thairfoir, when joy ma nocht remane,
His verry air succeidis pane.

"Heir heith returnis in seikness
And mirth returnis in haviness,
Toun in desert, forrest in plane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"Fredome returnis in wretchitness,
And trewth returnis in doubilness,
With fenyeit wordis to mak men fane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"Vertew returnis in-to vyce,
And honour in-to avaryce;
With cuvatyce is consciens slane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

"Sen erdly joy abydis nevir,
Wirk for the joy that lest is evir;
For uder joy is all bot vane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane."

=======_William Dunbar_.

213 - LATE in the nicht in bed I lay,
The winds were at their weary play,
An' tirlin' wa's an' skirlin' wae
=Through Heev'n they battered;
On-ding o' hail, on-blaff o' spray,
=The tempest blattered.

The masoned house it dinled through;
It dung the ship, it cowped the coo;
The rankit aiks it overthrew,
=Had braved a' weathers;
The strang sea-gleds it took an' blew
=Awa' like feathers.

The thrawes o' fear on a' were shed,
An' the hair rose, an' slumber fled,
An' lichts were lit an' prayers were said
=Through a' the kintry;
An' the cauld terror clum in bed
=Wi' a' an' sindry.

To hear in the pit-mirk on hie
The brangled collieshangie flie,
The warl', they thocht, wi' land an' sea,
=Itsel' wad cowpit;
An' for auld airn, the smashed debris
=By God be rowpit.

Meanwhile frae far Aldeboran,
To folks wi' talescopes in han',
O' ships that cowpit, winds that ran,
=Nae sign was seen,
But the wee warl' in sunshine span
=As bricht 's a preen.

I, tae, by God's especial grace,
Dwall denty in a bieldy place,
Wi' hosened feet, wi' shaven face,
=Wi' dacent mainners:
A grand example to the race
=O' tautit sinners!

The wind may blaw, the heathen rage,
The deil may start on the rampage;—
The sick in bed, the thief in cage—
=What's a' to me?
Cosh in my house, a sober sage,
=I sit an' see.

An' whiles the bluid spangs to my bree,
To lie sae saft, to live sae free,
While better men maun do an' die
=In unco places.
"_Whaur's God?_" I cry, an' "_Whae is me_
=_To hae sic graces?_"

I mind the fecht the sailors keep,
But fire or can'le, rest or sleep,
In darkness an' the muckle deep;
=An' mind beside
The herd that on the hills o' sheep
=Has wandered wide.

I mind me on the hoastin' weans—
The penny joes on causey stanes—
The auld folk wi' the crazy banes,
=Baith auld an' puir,
That aye maun thole the winds an' rains
=An' labour sair.

An' whiles I'm kind o' pleased a blink
An' kind o' fleyed forby, to think,
For a' my rowth o' meat an' drink
=An' waste o' crumb,
I'll mebbe have to thole wi' skink
=In Kingdom Come.

For God whan jowes the Judgment bell,
Wi' His ain Hand, His Leevin' Sel',
Sall ryve the guid (as Prophets tell)
=Frae them that had it;
And in the reamin' pat o' Hell,
=The rich be scaddit.

O Lord, if this indeed be sae,
Let daw that sair an' happy day!
Again' the warl', grawn auld an' grey,
=Up wi' your aixe!
An' let the puir enjoy their play—
=I'll thole my paiks.

=======_R.L. Stevenson_.


O! I WAD like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry;
An' siller, that's sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gie?
—_It's gey an' easy spierin'_, says the beggar-wife to me.

O! I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Hoo a' things come to be whaur we find them when we try,
The lasses in their claes an' the fishes in the sea?
—_It's gey an' easy spierin'_, says the beggar-wife to me.

O! I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why lads are a' to sell an' lasses a' to buy;
An' naebody for dacency but barely two or three?
—_It's gey an' easy spierin'_, says the beggar-wife to me.

O! I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Gin death's as shure to men as killin' is to kye,
Why God has filled the yearth sae fu' o' tasty things to pree?
—_It's gey an' easy spierin'_, says the beggar-wife to me.

O! I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
The reason o' the cause an' the wherefore o' the why,
Wi' mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e'e?
—_It's gey an' easy spierin'_, says the beggar-wife to me.

=======_R.L. Stevenson_.


THE bairns i' their beds, worn oot wi' nae wark,
=Are sleepin', nor ever an eelid winkin';
The auld fowk lie still wi' their een starin' stark,
=An' the mirk pang-fou o' the things they are thinkin'.

Whan oot o' ilk corner the bairnies they keek,
=Lauchin' an' daffin', airms loosin' an' linkin',
The auld fowk they watch frae the warm ingle-cheek,
=But the bairns little think what the auld fowk are thinkin'.

Whan the auld fowk sit quaiet at the reet o' a stook,
=I' the sunlicht their washt een blinterin' an' blinkin',
Fowk scythin', or bin'in', or shearin' wi' heuk
=Carena a strae what the auld fowk are thinkin'.

At the kirk, whan the minister's dreich an' dry,
=His fardens as gien they war gowd guineas chinkin',
An' the young fowk are noddin', or fidgetin' sly,
=Naebody kens what the auld fowk are thinkin'.

Whan the young fowk are greitin' aboot the bed
=Whaur like water through san' the auld life is sinkin',
An' some wud say the last word was said,
=The auld fowk smile, an' ken what they're thinkin'.

=======_George Macdonald_.