Page:Poems Douglas.djvu/65

Packit up his brawest duddies,
 WP certificates a score,
Written by weel-wishin' bodies,
 O' his genius an' his lore.

Pass we by the dolefu' mornin'
 When his mither's blessin' fell
On his head, wi' tear draps burnin',
 As he knelt for her farewell.
Pass we o'er his journey weary,
 Hopes aye fadin' to a gleam,
'Mid the city's hum, uncheerie,
 Allan wakes as frae a dream.

Pass we o'er lang weeks o' gangin'
 Lanely through ilk thoroughfare,
Jostled by the folks aye thrangin'—
 Claes an' shoon the waur o' wear;
Sick o' searchin' an' confusion,
 Meeting no ae patron's face,
Coming' to the dread conclusion
 That 'twas a' a wild-goose chase.

Allan, wi' his bosom swellin'
 Hiech wi' longin's and despair,
Thocht upon his mither's dwellin',
 An' the peacefu' comforts there:
Halflins curst his ain ambition,
 Muse, an' a' the bletherin' pack,
Wha he blamed for his condition,
 Far frae hame, wi' scarce a plack.