“A Drop of Scotch"

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVII, 19 November 1927, Page 9

“A Drop of Scotch"

Lament of a New Zealand Scot

Loopin’ doon i* the gairden whan the sun droops wast, I dirl my howe aihang a wheen o’ floo’ers ’At I dinna ken the names o’, wi’ my cutty fu’ blast And my mind a routh o’ thochts o’ ither ’oors.

Syne I coorie on my hufikers and I leeve them ower again— The ’oors at e’en whan simmer cam’ richt— My stocks and asters drookit i’ the warm June rain, Or my neeps frost-gruppit i’ the cauld December night.

The hale cl?mjamfray nooadays is a’ clean daft; It’s like startin’ ower again to be a bairn; Whan the grun’ s’ould be hard, it’s surly, aye, and saft— Lat me luik for’t saft,—it’s hard as ony airn.

It's Hogmanay in Glesca whan it s Ne’erday here, And I gang till my bed whan they're a’ at their brose; Warm North, cauld South,—Hech! it gars me fear I maun smell wi’ my mou' and sup parritch wi' my nose! Sae I’ll dander furth again whaur the laverock sings Ower the muir i’ the sunlint o’ a bonny day in June: I'm gey sair wearit wi’ the mystery o' things, And I’ll be tae link for hame or I change my tune. -LECTOR.