The Monks of St Giles, preamble

You may not feel elation pater noster plurally

My versifying rambling the bringer of ennui

My theme before was water, the river and the sea

But Tonight I take relation, for fathers all, we be

And withal my couplets now to couples turning

So haud yer wheesht and stap yer gurning

We’ve left at the portal our spouses and spice

And here there be verses of mouses and mice

We be sleekit and poor, but not cowering

In a social dominion, of poetry devouring


Hereafter if I’m on it I’ll be shorter

But tonight hear the sonnet, “tae a daughter”

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