YOU--that could not stand the dust
Of a day's dry weather,
Nor in high winds
Shoulder a load together,
Without a faith that was broken,
And a love consumed
By the hot marl of words
That were spoken--
Do you not know that a hemlock root
Will enfold you together,
Though fair be the sky
Or foul be the weather?
To that same bed you shall come,
When the ear shall be deaf
And the lips be dumb;
Where under the turf,
Not a note shall be heard,
From the cry of a wren
To the thunder of surf.
AH Jock! I'm sure that as a right
Good honest friend I ken ye,
And damned be he that would indite
A scornful word agen' ye:
A self-controlled God-fearin' Scot,
You fight with all that's evil,
But every time you top your shot
The odds are with the devil.
A softer heart in human breast
I do not know another,
And many a time, in many a test,
You've proved yourself a brother.