Win' That 'Blaws

Win' that blaws the simmer plaid     Ower the hie hill's shoothers laid,     Green wi' gerse, an' reid wi' heather--     Welcome wi' yer sowl-like weather!     Mony a win' there has been sent     Oot aneth the firmament--     Ilka ane its story has;     Ilka ane began an' was;     Ilka ane fell quaiet an' mute     Whan its angel wark was oot:     First gaed are oot throu the mirk     Whan the maker gan to work;     Ower it gaed an' ower the sea,     An' the warl begud to be.     Mony are has come an' gane     Sin' the time there was but ane:     Ane was grit an' strong, an' rent     Rocks an' muntains as it went     Afore the Lord, his trumpeter,     Waukin up the prophet's ear;     Ane was like a stepping soun     I' the mulberry taps abune--     Them the Lord's ain steps did swing,     Walkin on afore his king;     Ane lay dune like scoldit pup     At his feet, an' gatna up--     Whan the word the Maister spak     Drave the wull-cat billows back;     Ane gaed frae his lips, an' dang     To the yird the sodger thrang;     Ane comes frae his hert to mine     Ilka day to mak it fine.     Breath o' God, eh! come an' blaw     Frae my hert ilk fog awa;     Wauk me up an' mak me strang,     Fill my hert wi' mony a sang,     Frae my lips again to stert     Fillin sails o' mony a hert,     Blawin them ower seas dividin     To the only place to bide in.