But i' the doo'cot up the braes,
When a'tumn nichts are mirk,
I've hid my pennies an' my claes
An' the Buik I read at kirk,
An' come ae nicht when a' fowks sleep,
I'll lift them whaur they lie,
An' to the harbour-side I'll creep
I' the dim licht o' the sky;
An' when the eastern blink grows wide,
An' dark still smoors the west,
A Baltic brig will tak' the tide
Wi' a lad that canna rest!
LOGIE KIRK
O Logie Kirk amang the braes,
I'm thinkin' o' the merry days
Afore I trod thae weary ways
That led me far frae Logie!
Fine do I mind when I was young
Abune thy graves the mavis sung
An' ilka birdie had a tongue
To ca' me back to Logie.
O Logie Kirk, tho' aye the same
The burn sings ae remembered name,
There's ne'er a voice to cry "Come hame
To bonnie Bess at Logie!"
Far, far awa' the years decline
That took the lassie wha was mine
An' laid her sleepin' lang, lang syne
Amang the braes at Logie.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE DITCH
Aweel, I'm couped. But wha' could tell
The road wad rin sae sair?
I couldna gang yon pace mysel',
An' I winna try nae mair!