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George MacDonald - I Ken Something
Work rating: Low

What gars ye sing sae, birdie,
As gien ye war lord o` the lift?
On breid ye`re an unco sma` lairdie,
But in hicht ye`ve a kingly gift!

A` ye hae to coont yersel rich in
`S a wee mawn o` glory-motes!
The whilk to the throne ye`re aye hitchin
Wi a lang tow o` sapphire notes!

Ay, yer sang`s the sang o` an angel
For a sinfu` thrapple no meet,
Like the pipes til a heavenly braingel
Whaur they dance their herts intil their feet!

But though ye canna behaud, birdie,
Ye needna gar a`thing wheesht!
I`m noucht but a hirplin herdie,
But I hae a sang i` my breist!

Len` me yer throat to sing throu,
Len` me yer wings to gang hie,
And I`ll sing ye a sang a laverock to cow,
And for bliss to gar him dee!
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