 |
 |
|
| | |
 |
|
|
|
Robert Louis Stevenson > A Child’s Garden of Verses and Underwoods > II. Ille Terrarum |
 |
|
|
|
| CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD |
| |
| Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850–1894). A Child’s Garden of Verses and Underwoods. 1913. |
| |
II. Ille Terrarum
|
| FRAE nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ breeze, | |
| Frae Norlan’ snaw, an’ haar o’ seas, | |
| Weel happit in your gairden trees, | |
| A bonny bit, | |
| Atween the muckle Pentland’s knees, | 5 |
| 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; | 10 |
| 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 | 15 |
| 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, | 20 |
| Or mebbe stops awhile to crack | |
| Wi’ Jane the cook, | |
| Or at some buss, worm-eaten-black, | |
| To gie a look. | |
| |
| Frae the high hills the curlew ca’s; | 25 |
| The sheep gang baaing by the wa’s; | |
| Or whiles a clan o’ roosty craws | |
| Cangle thegether; | |
| The wild bees seek the gairden raws, | |
| Weariet wi’ heather. | 30 |
| |
| Or in the gloamin’ douce an’ gray | |
| The sweet-throat mavis tunes her lay; | |
| The herd comes linkin’ doun the brae; | |
| An’ by degrees | |
| The muckle siller müne maks way | 35 |
| Amang the trees. | |
| |
| Here aft hae I, wi’ sober heart, | |
| For meditation sat apairt, | |
| When orra loves or kittle art | |
| Perplexed my mind; | 40 |
| Here socht a balm for ilka smart | |
| O’ humankind. | |
| |
| Here aft, weel neukit by my lane, | |
| Wi’ Horace, or perhaps Montaigne, | |
| The mornin’ hours hae come an’ gane | 45 |
| Abüne my heid— | |
| I wadnae gi’en a chucky-stane | |
| For a’ I’d read. | |
| |
| But noo the auld city, street by street, | |
| An’ winter fu’ o’ snaw an’ sleet, | 50 |
| Awhile shut in my gangrel feet | |
| An’ goavin’ mettle; | |
| Noo is the soopit ingle sweet, | |
| An’ liltin’ kettle. | |
| |
| An’ noo the winter winds complain; | 55 |
| Cauld lies the glaur in ilka lane; | |
| On draigled hizzie, tautit wean | |
| An’ drucken lads, | |
| In the mirk nicht, the winter rain | |
| Dribbles an’ blads. | 60 |
| |
| Whan bugles frae the Castle rock, | |
| An’ beaten drums wi’ dowie shock, | |
| Wauken, at cauld-rife sax o’clock, | |
| My chitterin’ frame, | |
| I mind me on the kintry cock, | 65 |
| The kintry hame. | |
| |
| I mind me on yon bonny bield; | |
| An’ Fancy traivels far afield | |
| To gaither a’ that gairdens yield | |
| O’ sun an’ Simmer: | 70 |
| To hearten up a dowie chield, | |
| Fancy’s the limmer! | |
