Heaven
A croon, a harp, a bonnie sang,
Wi’ naething tae dee but tak’ wir ease,
An’ still-an’-on we’re loath tae gyang –
Dod, but fowk’s gey ill tae please.
John M. Caie
A croon, a harp, a bonnie sang,
Wi’ naething tae dee but tak’ wir ease,
An’ still-an’-on we’re loath tae gyang –
Dod, but fowk’s gey ill tae please.
from ‘Twixt Hills and Sea: verse in Scots and English (Aberdeen: D. Wyllie & Son, 1939)
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