Who in her brother lost the pride of life,
Weeping as all her heaven were full of rain.

When that which was so like him--so unlike--
Lay in the churchyard, and the green turf soon
Would grow together, healing up the wounds
Of the old Earth who took her share again,
The sister went to do his last request.
Then found she, with his other papers, this,--
A farewell song, in lowland Scottish tongue:--

Greetna, father, that I'm gaein'.
For fu' weel ye ken the gaet.
I' the winter, corn ye're sawin'--
I' the hairst, again ye hae't.

I'm gaein' hame to see my mither--
She'll be weel acquant or this,
Sair we'll muse at ane anither,
'Tween the auld word an' new kiss.

Love, I'm doubtin', will be scanty
Roun' ye baith, when I'm awa';
But the kirk has happin' plenty
Close aside me, for you twa.

An' aboon, there's room for mony--
'Twas na made for ane or twa;
But it grew for a' an' ony
Countin' love the best ava'.