Author: Tristan Evarts

I’m going through and reading a Robert Burns poem a day from one of the books in my collection. A bit of a journey and a personal project, this poem is The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie (with introduction) As Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither, Was ae day nibbling on the tether, Upon her cloot she coost a hitch, An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch: There, groaning, dying, she did lie, When Hughoc he cam doytin by. Wi’ glowrin een, and lifted han’s Poor Hughoc like a statue stan’s; He saw her days were near-hand ended, But,…