The Auld Piper
A'e nicht I met him on his lane.
Beneath his airm the bag wis juke.
We baith socht shelter frae the rain -
sae flegged he looked.
A' happit up until it cleared,
we spak a while o' present needs.
Bit syne the conversation veerd
Tae drone and reeds.
Sich talk o' tunes he used tae play -
laments an pibrochs that he'd try.
This gatherin' and that parade,
An' bags gaun dry.
Oot cam' the chanter tae the task.
His ancient een bright-lichted fu'
at me, wha had the spunk tae ask
fur 'Donald Dhu'.
Whit skirls! A maister haun wis here!
Richt pleased he wis, gran' skill tae show.
Next, yon 'sky Boat'; plaintive, clear,
an' sweet an' low.
A gude-will meetin', though 'twis cauld,
We pairted then and' loss wis mine.
A'll no' furget that piper auld
in years of time.
