Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
The Folk at Lindores
By James StirlingO,
Though it ’s lang sin’ I had onie troke at Lindores;
For the blythe winter night
Flew o’er us fu’ light,
Wi’ the sang, an’ the crack, an’ the joke at Lindores.
An’ the auld man to tales would begin at Lindores,
How in days o’ his youth
The red rebels cam’ south,
An’ spulzied the feck o’ his kin at Lindores.
How he hated the dominie’s tawse at Lindores,
How i’ the lang day
The truan’ he ’d play,
An’ set aff to herrie the craws at Lindores.
An’ tell o’ the covenant time at Lindores;
How Clavers, fell chiel’!
Was in league wi’ the deil,
How a ball stottit ance aff his wame at Lindores.
To the puir, an’ the blind, an’ the lame at Lindores;
Wi’ handfu’s o’ meal,
An’ wi’ platefu’s o’ kale,
An’ the stranger was sure o’ a hame at Lindores.
An’ a tear ’s in the e’e o’ the wife at Lindores;
I dinna weel ken
Whan I ’ll be there again,
But sorrow, I ’m fearin’, is rife at Lindores.