Subject: 23rd Psalm in Scots
From:
wysiwyg
Date: 09 Oct 02 - 06:54 PM
This is close to how he sent it to me. I didn't save it, it turns out; he sent me so many things that finally I just could hear almost anything in his soft tone, just by thinking of him; saving individual items seemed to become less important. Note these two lines in the last verse, as you think of ljc:
Surely guidness an' mercy, despite a' my roamin'
Wull gang wi' me doon tae the brink o' the river.
~S~
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23rd Psalm in Scots
The Lord is my Shepherd in nocht am I wantin'
In the haugh's green girse does He mak me lie doon
While mony puir straiglers are bleatin' and pantin'
By saft-flowin' burnies He leads me at noon.
When aince I had strayed far awa in the bracken,
And daidled till gloamin' cam ower a' the hills,
Nae dribble o' water my sair drooth to slacken,
And dark grow'd the nicht wi' its haars and its chills.
Awa frae the fauld, strayin' fit-sair and weary,
I thocht I had naethin' tae dae but tae dee.
He socht me and fand me in mountain hechts dreary,
He gangs by fell paths which He kens best for me.
And noo, for His name's sake, I'm dune wi' a' fearin'
Though cloods may aft gaither and soughin' win's blaw.
"Hoo this?" or "Hoo that?" -- oh, prevent me frae spearin'
His will is aye best, and I daurna say "Na".
The valley o' death winna fleg me to thread it,
Through awfu' the darkness, I weel can foresee.
Wi' His rod and His staff He wull help me to tread it,
Then wull its shadows, sae gruesome, a' flee.
Forfochen in presence o' foes that surround me,
My Shepherd a table wi' denties has spread.
The Thyme and the Myrtle blaw fragrant aroond me,
He brims a fu' cup and poors oil on my head.
Surely guidness an' mercy, despite a' my roamin'
Wull gang wi' me doon tae the brink o' the river.
Ayont it nae mair o' the eerie an' gloamin'
I wull bide in the Hame o' my Faither for ever.
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And another version:
23rd Psalm
by John Moir, Banchory
Wha' is my shepherd weel I ken
The Lord himsel' is he:
He leads me whaur the girse is green
An' burnies quiet that be.
Aft times I fain astray wad gang
An wann'r far awa':
He fin's me oot, he pits me richt
An' brings me hame an' a'.
Tho I pass through the gruesome cleuch
Fin' I ken He is near:
His muckle crook will me defen'
Sae I ha'e nocht to fear.
Ilk comfort whilk a sheep could need
His thoghtfu' care provides:
Tho' wolves an' dogs may prowl aboot
In safety me He hides.
His guidness an' his mercy baith
Nae doot will bide wi' He -
While fallded on the fields o' time
Or o' eternity.
|
sj
