Page:New poems and variant readings, Stevenson, 1918.djvu/32

12 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'.