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DONALD
AND HIS
DOG.


Atween twa hills that tower'd up to the clouds,
Clad o'er with heather, bent, and wuds;
'Mang rocks, and steeps, and waters falling,
Was Highland Donald's humble dwelling,
Aroun' his hut, beneath his eye,
Fed bout a score o'stirks and key,
Whilk, wi' his wife and family, were
His pleasure and pecular care:
Amang sic barren heights and howes,
Whar grain for food but scanty grows,
His family were but sparely fed—
Right coarse, and barely were they clad;
For he had wi' the laird for years
Had, 'aginst his will been in arrears
For whilk he had to thole the snarl
And threats o' the tyrannic carl

Till Donald's independent spirit