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Robert Louis Stevenson - To Mesdames Zassetsky And Garschine
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THE wind may blaw the lee-gang way
And aye the lift be mirk an` gray,
An deep the moss and steigh the brae
Where a` maun gang -
There`s still an hoor in ilka day
For luve and sang.

And canty hearts are strangely steeled.
By some dikeside they`ll find a bield,
Some couthy neuk by muir or field
They`re sure to hit,
Where, frae the blatherin` wind concealed,
They`ll rest a bit.

An` weel for them if kindly fate
Send ower the hills to them a mate;
They`ll crack a while o` kirk an` State,
O` yowes an` rain:
An` when it`s time to take the gate,
Tak` ilk his ain.

- Sic neuk beside the southern sea
I soucht - sic place o` quiet lee
Frae a` the winds o` life.  To me,
Fate, rarely fair,
Had set a freendly company
To meet me there.

Kindly by them they gart me sit,
An` blythe was I to bide a bit.
Licht as o` some hame fireside lit
My life for me.
- Ower early maun I rise an` quit
This happy lee.
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