Page:Underwoods, Stevenson, 1887.djvu/116

92 And aye an' while we nearer draw

To whaur the kirkton lies alaw,

Mair neebours, comin' saft an' slaw

Frae here an' there,

The thicker thrang the gate an' caw

The stour in air.

But hark! the bells frae nearer clang;

To rowst the slaw, their sides they bang;

An' see! black coats a'ready thrang

The green kirkyaird;

And at the yett, the chestnuts spang

That brocht the laird.

The solemn elders at the plate

Stand drinkin' deep the pride o' state:

The practised hands as gash an' great

As Lords o' Session;

The later named, a wee thing blate

In their expression.