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.