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I wondered they had düne sae weel.
For had I but remained at hame,
Aiblins though no ava' deservin' 't
They micht hae named your humble servant.
The kirk was filled, the door was steeked;
I was mair pleased than I can tell
Unfit for ony congregation.
Syne, while I still was on the tenter,
Syne, as though a' the faith was wreckit,
Was no the man he used to be.
But just as I was growin' vext
O what a gale was on my speerit
We were a' damned, an' that was clear.
LATE in the nicht in bed I lay,
The winds were at their weary play, An' tirlin' wa's an' skirlin' wae
Through Heev'n they battered;
On-ding o' hail, on-blaff o' spray,
The masoned house it dinled through;
Had braved a' weathers;
The strang sea-gleds it took an' blew
The thrawes o' fear on a' were shed,
An' the cauld terror clum in bed
To hear in the pit-mirk on hie
The warl', they thocht, wi' land an' sea,
An' for auld airn, the smashed debris
Meanwhile frae far Aldeboran,
O' ships that cowpit, winds that ran,
But the wee warl' in sunshine span
I, tae, by God's especial grace,
A grand example to the race
O' tautit sinners!
The wind may blaw, the heathen rage,
Cosh in my house, a sober sage,
An' whiles the bluid spangs to my bree, To lie sae saft, to live sae free,
While better men maun do an' die
In unco places.
"Whaur's God?" I cry, an' "Whae is me To hae sic graces?"
I mind the fecht the sailors keep,
The herd that on the hills o' sheep
I mind me on the hoastin' weans
That aye maun thole the winds an' rains,
An' whiles I'm kind o' pleased a blink,
I'll mebbe have to thole wi' skink