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Poem by James Hogg


Athol Cummers


Duncan lad, blaw the bummers!
Play we round the Athol Cummers,
Athe din o athe drummers
Canna rouse like Athol Cummers.

When Im dowie, weet, or weary,
Soch my heart grows light ancheery,
When I hear the sprightly  numers
Of my dear, my Athol Cummers.
                        Duncan lad, etc

When the fickle lasses vex me;
When the cares of life perples me;
When Im fleyd wifrightfurumours,
Then I cry for Athol Cummers. 
                        Duncan lad, etc

Tis a cure for adisasters;
Kebbit ewes, ancrabbit masters;
Driftly nights, andripping summers,
Amy joy is Athol Cummers.
                        Duncan lad, etc

Athol banks and braes are bonny,
Fairer nane in Caledony;
But aher woods, answeetest summers,
Canna please like Athol Cummers.
                        Duncan lad, etc



James Hogg


James Hogg's other poems:
  1. The Laird o' Lamington
  2. The Skylark
  3. Kilmeny
  4. The Soldiers Widow
  5. A Boy's Song


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