Records and Other Poems By the late Robert Leighton |
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SIGNS O' RAIN. |
 | Records and Other Poems |  |
339
SIGNS O' RAIN.
Now are we fresh and swank as eels,
And fit to walk a score o' miles;
And if the day wad but keep fair,
We'd tramp a score o' miles and mair.
But worms hae left the grassy sod,
And streek themsel's out on the road;
And, as they crawl, they seem to say,
“My lads, beware o' rain the-day.”
And fit to walk a score o' miles;
And if the day wad but keep fair,
We'd tramp a score o' miles and mair.
But worms hae left the grassy sod,
And streek themsel's out on the road;
And, as they crawl, they seem to say,
“My lads, beware o' rain the-day.”
The far-aff hills creep near the toons,
And draw their mist-keps ower their croons;
Near seems the distant lammie's bleat;
Kye snuff the air and winna eat;
The swallows lowly skim the field;
The trees unusual fragrance yield:—
Hills, trees, kye, lambs, and swallows say,
“My lads, beware o' rain the-day.”
And draw their mist-keps ower their croons;
Near seems the distant lammie's bleat;
Kye snuff the air and winna eat;
The swallows lowly skim the field;
The trees unusual fragrance yield:—
Hills, trees, kye, lambs, and swallows say,
“My lads, beware o' rain the-day.”
| Records and Other Poems | |