Page:Deil tak the wars.pdf/6

 6 Sandy herds a flock o' sheep, Aften does he blaw his whistle, In a strain tae saftly sweet Lammies list'ning, dare nae bleat, He's as fleet's the mountain roe. Hardy as the Highland heather, Waring thro' the winter snow, Keeping a his flock thegither, But a plaid wi' bare houghs He braves the bleakest norlin' blast. Brawly he can dance and sing, Canty glee or Highland cronach; Nane can ever match his fling, At a reel or round a ring, Wightly be can wield a rung; In a brawl he's ay the bangster ; A' his praise can ne'er be sung By the longest winded sangster, Sangs that sing o' Sandy Come short though they were e'er sae lang.

LILIES OF THE VALLEY. O'rr barren hills and flowery dales, O'er seas and distant shoers,