The Cotter’s Saturday Night - by
O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! / For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, / Long may…
O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! / For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, / Long may…
After Pradech
/
/ The market had everything:
/ that Macedonian autumn
/ earth talked through mothers
/ standing over fruit
/
/ cooling it with water
/ for the eyes of the customers,
/ caressing…
O why should the spirit of mortal be proud!
/ Like a fast flitting meteor, a fast flying cloud,
/ A flash of the…
Is there for honest Poverty
/ That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
/ The coward-slave, we pass him by,
/ We dare be poor for…
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