The Scottish songs - National Library of Scotland

507
A' his praise can ne'er be sung
By the langest-winded sangster.
Sangs, that sing o' Sandy,
Seem short, though they were e'er sae lang.
DONOCHT HEAD.
WILLIAM PICKERING.
: ; ; ; ; ; ;
Keen blaws the wind ower Donocht Head ;*
The snaw drives snelly through the dale
The gaberlunzie tirls my sneck,
And shivering tells his waefu' tale
" Cauld is the nicht ; O let me in,
And dinna let your minstrel fa',
And dinna let his winding-sheet
Be naething but a wreath o' snaw.
Full ninety winters hae I seen,
And piped where gorcocks whirring flew
And mony a day ye've danced, I ween,
To lilts which frae my drone I blew."
My Eppie waked, and sune she cried,
" Get up, gudeman, and let him in
For weel ye ken the winter nicht
Was short when he began his din."
My Eppie's voice, O wow it's sweet,
Ev'n though she bans and scaulds a wee
But when it's tuned to sorrow's tale,
Oh haith, it's doubly dear to me !
" Come in, auld carle I I'll steer my fire
ril mak it bleeze a bonnie flame.
Your blude is thin ; ye've tint the gate
Ye shouldna stray sae far frae hame."
* A mountain in the north of Scotland.