Dear freen, I houp this wee bit note
Will reach its destination.
In it ye'll find a word o' thanks
For your appreciation
Of lines upon the dear auld freen.
Whose death has caused oor sorrow.
But tho' the cluds hang dark to-day,
The sun will shine to-morrow
On chastened hearts that can rejoice
Tae see the sufferer free,
Tho' noo we canna' see the licht
For grief has blin't the e'e.
I hae nae skill in poetry,
An' little ken o' grammar:
In makin' o' ma ain bit rhymes
I aften mak' a stammer.
Sae ye may ken I'm unco pleased
Tae hear ma piece was splendid,
An' tho' I ken it had a faut
I hadna' wit tae mend it.
Sae let the creetics creeticise:
When tired, they will forbear.
If tae yer hert it did appeal,
For them I dinna care.