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38               STEVENSON'S POEMS
And canty hearts are strangely steeled, By some dikeside they'll find a bield, Some couthy neuk by muir or field
They're sure to hit, Where, frae the blatherin' wind concealed,
They'll rest a bit.
An' weel for them if kindly fate Send ower the hills to them a mate; They'll crack a while o' kirk an* State,
O' yowes an' rain: An' when it's time to take the gate,
Tak1 ilk his am.
—Sic neuk beside the southern sea I soucht—sic place o' quiet lee Frae a' the winds o1 life.    To me,
Fate, rarely fair, Had set a freendly company
To meet me there.
Kindly by them they gart me sit, An* blythe was I to bide a bit. Licht as o' some hame fireside lit
My life for me. —Ower early maun I rise an' quit
This happy lee.