The whaup comes doon wi' an eerie cry,
An' the peesweep flaps a' day,
But they canna wauken the deid that lie
At rest in their shroods o' clay.
"Patrick Laing" by Alexander Anderson
That nicht Tam Cringan dee'd, an' juist
As they laid him oot in his shrood,
They heard a soun' like the bagpipes skirl,
An' it cam' frae the Laggeray Wood.
"The Piper's Tree" by Alexander Anderson
Me problem's this: The noos 'as to be broke
Concernin' Rose. Doreen 'as to he told.
The 'ow an' when that bit uv noos is spoke
I've learnt uv old.
I'm shrood. I wait. I watch me chance to act.
The trick's to know the time an' place exact.
"The Also-Ran" by C J Dennis
That's 'ow it was all night. I schemed a treat,
Workin' shrood points, an' sweatin' blood, almost;
But every time I'm beat
Right on the post.
All me matchrnakin's bust -- the task uv days --
Through Danny's duds an' my wife's tackless ways.
"The Dance" by C J Dennis