My Laddie's Hounds

they are my laddie’s hounds That rin the wood at brak o’ day. Wha is it taks them hence? Can ony say Wha is it taks my laddie’s hounds At brak o’ day? They cleek aff thegither, An’ then fa’ back, wi’ room atween For ane to walk; sae aften, I hae seen The baith cleek aff thegither Wi’ ane atween! And when toward the pines Up yonder lane they loup alang, I see ae bonnie laddie brent and strang, I see ae laddie loup alang Toward the pines. I follow them, in mind, Ilk time; right weel I ken the way,— They thrid the wood, an’ speel the staney brae, An’ skir the field; I follow them, I ken the way. They daddle at the creek, Whaur down fra aff the reaching-logs I stoup, wi’ my dear laddie, an’ the dogs, An’ drink o’ springs that spait the creek Maist to the logs. He ’s but a bairn, atho’ He hunts the mountain’s lonely bree, His doggies’ ears abune their brows wi’ glee He ties; he ’s but a bairn, atho’ He hunts the bree. Fu’ length they a’ stretch out Upon ae bink that green trees hap In shade. He whusslits saft; the beagles nap Wi’ een half shut, a’ stretchin’ out Whaur green trees hap. And noo he fades awa’ Frae ’tween the twa—into the blue. My sight gats blind; gude Lord, it isna true That he has gane for aye, awa’— Into the blue! They are my laddie’s hounds That mak the hill at fa’ o’ day Wi’ dowie heads hung laigh; can ony say Wha is it hunts my laddie’s hounds Till fa’ o’ day?