The Lord's bin hard on me, Sir,
He's stown my barn away.
O, dowly, dowly was that neet
He stole lile Doad away!


1. Briskly 2. The last sheaf of the harvest
3. Mist 4. Until




His Last Sail


GRANDFATHER
T' watter is blue i' t' offin',
An' blue is t' sky aboon;
Swallows are settin' sou'ard,
An' wanin' is t' harvist moon.
Ower lang I've bin cowerin' idle
I' my neuk by t' fire-side;
I'll away yance mair i' my coble,
I'll away wi' t' ebbin' tide.

MALLY
Nay, Gransir, thoo moant gan sailin',
Thoo mun bide at yam to-neet;
At eighty-two thoo sudn't think
O' t' Whitby fishin' fleet.