A Drop of Scotch
TAM I’ THE KIRK
O Jean, my Jean, when the bell ca’s the congregation Ower valley an' hill wi’ the ding-frae its iron mon', When a’body's thochts is ret on his am salvation. Mine’s set on you. There’s a rci,| rose lies on file no'k o’ tho Word afore ye That was growin' brnw at. the keek But the lad that pil’d yon flower i’ the mornin’s glory. Ho canna pray, I
He canna pray, but there’s nane i' the kirk will heed him Whaur he sits sae still his lane at the side o' the wa’. For nano but the reid note kens what my lassie ga'ed him, It an’ us twa. He canna sing for the sang that his ain he’rt raises. He canna see for the mist flint’s afore his e’en And a voice drouns the hale o’ the psalms an* the paraphrases. Cryin', "Jean, Jean, Jean!” —Violet Jacobs,
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Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVII, 10 December 1927, Page 9
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156A Drop of Scotch Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVII, 10 December 1927, Page 9
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