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VERSES
Where little feet ran out and in
The track is hard to find;
Gudeman, it is long since we closed the door
And left what it held behind.
Down in the strath the kirk is set
Upon the running burn;
It’s many roads we’ve trod^ and yet
It’s here we must return.
Old lights along the fields are laid.
Old shadows lie as deep.
But new eyes watch them as they fade
Among the grazing sheep.
And it’s time we went down to Airlie kirk
And laid ourselves down to sleep.
THE FLUTE PLAYER
In the window’s shade ere the dusk has spread
Over plain and hill,
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