Poems and Songs

The Scott Monument

An unco spire that stabs the lift

Like some kirk steeple come adrift

And in the Garden lighted doun

Richt by the classical New Toun,

A monument that makes the haill

O’ Princes street look out o’ scale

And wi’ its Gothic fripperies

As different as chalk frae cheese -

Sic is thon ferlie o’ an alter

For worshippers o’ Sir Walter.

For pilgrims sound in wind and limb

There’s gloomy, windin stairs to sclim

And those that reach the tapmost stair

Can hae a ticket to declare

They’ve dune the lot.

I’m bound to say,

As readin habits go the day,

Gin those wha’ve read the Novels through

Could likewise hae a billet-doux

to say they’ve dune the lot, I doubt

No mony wad be handed out.

Douglas Fraser


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