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Robert Louis Stevenson - To The Commissioners Of Northern Lights
Work rating: Medium

I SEND to you, commissioners,
A paper that may please ye, sirs
(For troth they say it might be worse
An` I believe`t)
And on your business lay my curse
Before I leav`t.

I thocht I`d serve wi` you, sirs, yince,
But I`ve thocht better of it since;
The maitter I will nowise mince,
But tell ye true:
I`ll service wi` some ither prince,
An` no wi` you.

I`ve no been very deep, ye`ll think,
Cam` delicately to the brink
An` when the water gart me shrink
Straucht took the rue,
An` didna stoop my fill to drink -
I own it true.

I kent on cape and isle, a light
Burnt fair an` clearly ilka night;
But at the service I took fright,
As sune`s I saw,
An` being still a neophite
Gaed straucht awa`.

Anither course I now begin,
The weeg I`ll cairry for my sin,
The court my voice shall echo in,
An` - wha can tell? -
Some ither day I may be yin
O` you mysel`.
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