Poems and Songs

To the Wind

O gallus wind o Embro toun

Ye breenge through ilka space.

I turn a corner - blaw me doun!

Yere there, yere at my face,

Careerin up the causeway croun

In furious paper chase.

Some grey and venerable square

Is dreamin o its past

Till, roarin oot a randy air,

Ye gie it sic a blast,

Ye leave the douce auld leddies there

A breathless and aghast.

Ye rouse us up at break o day

Wi dustbin lids for rattles

Syne, start them birling doun the brae

Like tanks gaun into battle

Ye dinna heed what tricks ye play

Wi fowks weel-valued chattels

But, though we ca ye mony a name

in guid Scots prose or sonnet,

Our city wadna be the same

Gin neer ye blew upon it

Sae, as ye blew in Burnss times,

Blaw still upon our city.

Blaw us a man wi rowth o rhymes 

Wha kens baith pride and pity

Tender wi failins, tough wi crimes

And honest as hes witty 

Douglas Fraser

1959

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