TYPE O' PYPE DIRGE


As Ah took the wynd frae Twassach Toon,
On the way tae Gevet Beck,
One lonely night, 
Near Wassis Height,
Ah hear'd a mournful skreek.
Ah hear'd a fearful keenin'
Whaft an' whasper thrae the glen
Like the piped Last Post
Frae a long dead ghost
T'was nae earthly sound Ah' ken.
Then frae afar Ah spied it:
The piper o' that terrible tune.
T'was the colour o' a kilt,
Like an egg on stilts
Cut sharp ag'in the moon.
It stood side-on in profile.
Ah saw its hooter clear.
Ah could hae sworn it
Was shaped like a cornet.
Twas the the long-lost Hamish Ah fear.
Twas nae less than the Phantom Hamish 
Amournin' on that rock
In a shrill he cried 
Fer his hamish bride
In the pullin' o' his weird pi'broch
Wi' a heart near burst tae ruction
His pi'broch lilted low
Then his feathers ruffled
An' his hooter snuffled
As he kenned o' long ago.
Kenned o' a time he was happy,
An' livin' wi' his hamish wife;
O that love-duet
When they verra first met--
An' then he kenned o' how she lost her life..
Kenned o' the bagpipe-hunters:
Who prized Hamish skins at the time.
O' the well-aimed spear:
Where it hit his dear.
What he keeked o' the swine an' the crime.
Kenned o' where they stuck the mouth-piece
When a-fashionin' bagpipes, then
Then wi' a heart-fealt skirl
Fer his hamish girl
He pulled his pi'broch again.



-Sterl