Aweill, we staund bareheidit in the haar…

 

 

 

 

099 copy

 

 

Aweill, we staund bareheidit in the haar,

murnin a man that gaed back til the pool

twa-hunner year afore our time. The glaur

that haps his banes glowres back strang, present dool

ruggs at my hairt. Lichtlie this gin ye daur:

here Robert Burns knelt and kissed the mool. – Robert Garioch