And the coal-bells ring, aye ring, on the cairts as they gang
I' the drookit street.

Heaven's hosts are glad,
Heaven's hames are bricht,
And in yon streets o' licht
Walks mony an Angus lad;
But my he'rt's aye back
Whaur my ain toon stands,
And the steeple's shade is laid when the tide's at the slack
On the lang sands.

[2] Sea-fog.




THE ROAD TO MARYKIRK


To Marykirk ye'll set ye forth,
An' whustle as ye step alang,
An' aye the Grampians i' the North
Are glow'rin' on ye as ye gang.
By Martin's Den, through beech an' birk,
A breith comes soughin', sweet an' strang,
Alang the road to Marykirk.

Frae mony a field ye'll hear the cry
O' teuchits,[3] skirlin' on the wing,