Gin a body cud be a thocht o' grace,
And no a sel' ava!
I'm sick o' my heid and my han's and my face,
And my thouchts and mysel' and a'.
I'm sick o' the warl' and a';
The licht gangs by wi' a hiss;
For throu' my een the sunbeams fa',
But my weary hert they miss.
O lassie, ayont the hill!
Come ower the tap o' the hill,
Or roun' the neuk o' the hill,
For I want ye sair the nicht.
For gin ance I saw yer bonnie heid,
And the sunlicht o' yer hair,
The ghaist o' mysel' wad fa' doon deid,
And I'd be mysel' nae mair.
I wad be mysel' nae mair,
Filled o' the sole remeid,
Slain by the arrows o' licht frae yer hair,
Killed by yer body and heid.
O lassie, ayont the hill! &c.
But gin ye lo'ed me, ever so sma'
For the sake o' my bonny dame,
Whan I cam' to life, as she gaed awa',
I could bide my body and name.
I micht bide mysel', the weary same,
Aye settin' up its heid,
Till I turn frae the claes that cover my frame,
As gin they war roun' the deid.
O lassie, ayont the hill! &c.
But gin ye lo'ed me as I lo'e you,
I wad ring my ain deid knell;
My sel' wad vanish, shot through and through
By the shine o' your sunny sel'.
By the shine o' your sunny sel',
By the licht aneath your broo,
I wad dee to mysel', and ring my bell,
And only live in you.
O lassie, ayont the hill!
Come ower the tap o' the hill,
Or roun' the neuk o' the hill,
For I want ye sair the night.
I'm needin' ye sair the nicht,
For I'm tired and sick o' mysel;
A body's sel' 's the sairest weicht!
O lassie, come ower the hill."
"Isna it raither metapheesical, Mr Cupples?" asked Alec.
"Ay is't. But fowk's metapheesical. True, they dinna aye ken't. I wad to God I cud get that sel' o' mine safe aneath the yird, for it jist torments the life oot o' me wi' its ugly face. Hit and me jist stan's an' girns at ane anither."
"It'll tak a heap o' Christianity to lay that ghaist, Mr Cupples. That I ken weel. The lassie wadna be able to do't for ye. It's ower muckle to expec' o' her or ony mortal woman. For the sowl's a temple biggit for the Holy Ghost, and no woman can fill't, war she the Virgin Mary ower again. And till the Holy Ghost comes intil's ain hoose, the ghaist that ye speak o' winna gang oot."
A huge form towered above the dyke behind them.