W. E. Aytoun Quotes
W. E. Aytoun mixes mythic mischief with dry humor, painting a funny picture of a flood-spilling son.
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Fhairshon had a son, Who married Noah's daughter, And nearly spoiled ta Flood, By drinking up the water. Which he would have done, I at least pelieve it, Had the mixture been Only half Glenlivet.
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Give me but one hour of Scotland, Let me see it ere I die.
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Fhairshon had a son, Who married Noah's daughter, And nearly spoil'd to Flood, By trinking up ta water: Which he would have done, I at least believe it, Had ta mixture peen Only half Glenlivet.
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Do not lift him from the bracken, Leave him lying where he fell- Better bier ye cannot fashion: None beseems him half so well As the bare and broken heather, And the hard and trampled sod, Whence his angry soul ascended To the judgment seat of God!
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He is coming! He is coming! Like a bridegroom from his room, Came the hero from his prison To the scaffold and the doom.
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They bore within their breasts the grief That fame can never heal- That deep, unutterable woe Which none save exiles feel.
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Fhairshon swore a feud Against the clan M,Tavish; Marched into their land To murder and to rafish; For he did resolve To extirpate the vipers, With four-and-twenty men And five-and-thirty pipers.
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Nowhere beats the heart so kindly as beneath the tartan plaid!
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The earth is all the home I have, the heavens my wide roof-tree