T S E（2 / 2）

saw hi shootg graith adorn&039;d,

while poters round ipatient burn&039;d,

frae uples free&039;d;

but och! he gaed and ne&039;er return&039;d!

ta san&039;s dead!

va auld a his body batters,

va the gout his ancles fetters,

va the burns ca down like waters,

an acre braid!

now ev&039;ry auld wife, greet, ctters

“ta san&039;s dead!”

owre ony a weary hag he lipit,

an&039; aye the tither shot he thupit,

till ward death behd hi jupit,

wi&039; deadly feid;

now he procis wi&039; tout o&039; trupet,

“ta san&039;s dead!”

when at his heart he felt the dagr,

he reel&039;d his wonted bottle-swagr,

but yet he drew the ortal trigr,

wi&039; weel-aid heed;

“lord, five!” he cry&039;d, an&039; owre did stagr—

ta san&039;s dead!

ilk hoary hunter ourn&039;d a brither;

ilk sportsan youth beoan&039;d a father;

yon auld gray stane, aang the heather,

arks out his head;

whare burns has wrote, rhyg blether,

“ta san&039;s dead!”

there, low he lies, stg rest;

perhaps upon his ould&039;rg breast

spitefu&039; uirfowl bigs her nest

to hatch an&039; breed:

as! nae air he&039;ll the olest!

ta san&039;s dead!

when augt ds the heather wave,

and sportsn wander by yon grave,

three volleys let his ory crave,

o&039; pouther an&039; lead,

till echo answer frae her cave,

“ta san&039;s dead!”

heav&039;n rest his saul whare&039;er he be!

is th&039; wish o&039; ony ae than :

he had a fauts, or aybe three,

yet what read?

ae cial, honest an want we:

ta san&039;s dead!