BOOK II

IN SCOTS

ea open E as in mere, but this with exceptions, as heather= heather,

ou

wain, lear

open E as in mere.

open O as in more.

lair.

doubled O as in poor.

ow - OW as in bower.

u = doubled O as in poor.

ui or û before R (say roughly) open A as in rare.

ui or û before any other consonant · (say roughly) close I as in grin. y = open I as in kite.

i = pretty nearly what you please, much as in English. Heaven guide the reader through that labyrinth! But in Scots it dodges usually from the short I, as in grin, to the open E, as in mere. Find and blind, I may remark, are pronounced to rhyme with the preterite of grin.

THE MAKER TO POSTERITY

'AR 'yont amang the years to be

FA

When a' we think, an' a' we see, An' a' we luve, 's been dung ajee

By time's rouch shouther,

An' what was richt and wrang for me
Lies mangled throu'ther,

It's possible - it's hardly mair-
That some ane, ripin' after lear
Some auld professor or young heir,

If still there's either

-

May find an' read me, an' be sair
Perplexed, puir brither!

"What tongue does your auld bookie speak? He'll spier; an' I, his mou to steik: "No bein' fit to write in Greek,

I wrote in Lallan,

Dear to my heart as the peat reek,
Auld as Tantallon.

"Few spak it then, an' noo there's nane. My puir auld sangs lie a' their lane,

Their sense, that aince was braw an' plain,
Tint a'thegether,

Like runes upon a standin' stane
Amang the beather.

"But think not you the brae to speel;
You, tae, maun chow the bitter peel;
For a' your lear, for a' your skeel,
Ye're nane sae lucky;

An' things are mebbe waur than weel
For you, my buckie.

"The bale concern (baith bens an' eggs,
Baith books an' writers, stars an' clegs)
Noo stachers upon lowsent legs,
An' wears awa';

The tack o' mankind, near the dregs,
Rins unco law.

"Your book, that in some braw new tongue,
Ye wrote or prentit, preached or sung,
Will still be just a bairn, an' young
In fame an' years,

"

Whan the bale planet's guts are dung
About your ears;

'An' you, sair gruppin' to a spar
Or whammled wi' some bleezin' star,
Cryin' to ken whaur deil ye are,

Hame, France, or Flanders-
Whang sindry like a railway car
An' flie in danders.'

ILLE TERRARUM

RAE nirly, nippin', Eas'lan' breeze,

FRAB

Frae Norlan' snaw, an' haar o' seas, Weel happit in your gairden trees,

A bonny bit,

Atween the muckle Pentland's knees,
Secure ye sit.

Beeches an' aiks entwine their theek,
An' firs, a stench, auld-farrant clique.
A' simmer day, your chimleys reek,
Couthy and bien;

An' here an' there your windies keek
Amang the green.

A pickle plats an' paths an' posies,
A wheen auld gillyflowers an' roses:
A ring o' wa's the hale encloses

Frae sheep or men;

An' there the auld housie beeks an' doses, A' by her lane.

The gairdner crooks his weary back
A' day in the pitaty-track,