The Complete Works of Robert Burns: Containing his Poems, Songs, and Correspondence. - With a New Life of the Poet, and Notices, Critical and Biographical by Allan Cunningham by Robert Burns;Allan Cunningham
page 271 of 2097 (12%)
page 271 of 2097 (12%)
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The sun had clos'd the winter day, The curlers quat their roaring play, An' hunger'd maukin ta'en her way To kail-yards green, While faithless snaws ilk step betray Whare she has been. The thresher's weary flingin'-tree The lee-lang day had tired me; And when the day had closed his e'e Far i' the west, Ben i' the spence, right pensivelie, I gaed to rest. There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek, I sat and ey'd the spewing reek, That fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek, The auld clay biggin'; An' heard the restless rattons squeak About the riggin'. All in this mottie, misty clime, I backward mused on wastet time, How I had spent my youthfu' prime, An' done nae thing, But stringin' blethers up in rhyme, For fools to sing. |
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