"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

08 February 2016

Cauld.


Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west,   
The drift is driving sairly;
Sae loud and shrill’s I hear the blast,   
I’m sure it’s winter fairly. 

Up in the morning’s no for me,   
Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,   
I’m sure its winter fairly. 

The birds sit chittering in the thorn,   
A’ day they fare but sparely;
And lang’s the night frae e’en to morn,   
I’m sure it’s winter fairly. 

Up in the morning’s no for me,   
Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,
I’m sure its winter fairly.

Robert Burns

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