THE rime lies cauld on ferm an' fauld, The lift's a drumlie grey; The hill-taps a' are white wi' snaw, An' dull an' dour's the day. The canny sheep thegither creep, The govin' cattle glower; The plooman staunds to chap his haunds An' wuss the storm were ower. But ance the snaw's begoud to fa' The cauld's no' near sae sair: 'Neth stingin' drift oor herts we lift The winter's warst to dare. Wi' frost an' cauld we battle bauld, Nor fear a passin' fa', But warstle up wi' warmer grup O' life, an' hope, an' a' . An' sae, my frien ' , when to oor een Oor warldly ills appear In prospect mair than we can bear, An outlook cauld an' drear; Let's bear in mind-an' this, ye'll find, Has heartened not a few When ance we're in the battle's din We'll find we're half gate thro' . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN INEVITABLY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 1. SUNRISE IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: RICHARD BONE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |