VAGRANT VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 18971, 19 June 1923, Page 4

VAGRANT VERSE

IN THE NORTH COUNTRIE. (Written for the Southland Times). In the North Countrie there are mist-capped Bens, In the North Countrie there are lonely In the North Countrie there are shielin’a bare, An’ its aft I’m langin’ I were aince mair there. In the North Countrie there are lochs that dream In the mornin’ licht, in the sun's last beam; In the North Countrie there are rivers fair, An’ it aft I’m langin’ I were wanderin’ there. In the North Countrie there arc hamely folk, Who are proud o’ the tongue their faithera spoke, Woe gie welcome fine, be ane rich or puir. An’ its aft I’m langin’ 1 were wi’ them there. In thr North Countrie sweet the simmer morn Sees the fragrant blossom o’ the milk-white thorn, An’ the bluebells noddin’ in the caller air, An’ I’m langin’, langin’, langin’, I could see them there. —Robert Francis. Bluff, June 18.