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The Sage of Glasgow
~ I - I Arrive in Glasgow ~ When I arrived in Glasgow town I knew nary a soul So tired I's nearly fallin' down Yet I'd no place to go I wandered up Buchanan street In hopes to find a bed Or e'en a simple mat o' hey On which to lay my head Lady Fortune must ha' smiled on me For as I ambled up the road An elf-like fellow waved me down, said pray come in And rest your load Upon our hearth awhile Abby, fetch some haddock stew! For this establishment is meant for weary Travelers such as you A dram'll do ye just fine Let us turn now to converse I am Seumas MacIntyre Ye'll no yet heard of me of course ~ II - I Become Acquainted With the Sage ~ My family's been in Glasgow Since Saint Mungo was a bairn My Da he was a boatwright 'Twas a trade he had me learn Aye but I's a restless lad An' struck out on my own For nigh on two and twenty years The wide world did I roam I've stown away in oxcarts and Dined with Turkish royalty I've climbed glaciers o'er in Canada And sailed the Indian sea When I returned to Scotland I'd learnt a thing or two Would ye hear my admonitions, lad? Pray, tell them to me true! ~ III - The Sage Imparts Wisdom (As Sages Do) ~ Well first ye see, there's Confidence Ye must look a man in the eye And keep your shoulders squarely back This today's in scant supply A man's friends are his family Wherever may he be Though brothers ye may sorely lack A true friend's as good to ye Lastly be not in a rush to Leave thy mark upon the age For only two, three, four score years Have ye wisdom 'nough to wage ~ IV - I Meet Bonny Abigail ~ 'Twas about this time a-night A ruddy girl with auburn hair Drew upon our table and Sat down 'side MacIntyre Now must you so prater on, She said patting his head I'm sure our guest is weary And longs but for his bed The words she spoke were kindly Yet she had no Scottish brogue Miss, are ye not from Glasgow then If I may be so bold? You're quite the perceptive one Replied Abigail Though I've lived in Scotland half my life From America I hail For when I was but a young girl Not more than ten and three My dear Papa, a whalin' man Was lost upon the sea Having never known my mother I'd then to make my way alone Whilst trav'lin' Seumas found me and Kindly took me to his home He's like a father to me hence And in his Inn I serve Though I've a mind to strike out again One day if I've the nerve ~ V - Revelry, and I Take My Leave ~ Aye, America lives in ye lass Spoke Seumas with a grin A fine proprietor ye'll one day make Of yer own New England Inn But the hour has grown late, my dears And to rest 'tis nearly time So let us toast one wee dram more And sing of auld lang syne We laughed and drank and drank and sang We merry travelers three And I thanked my Lord, such friends to meet Though we must soon part company On the morrow I set out again and Bid a fond farewell To the one true Sage of Glasgow and The lovely Abigail Oct. 2, 2017
Copyright © 2024 Andrew Jacob Jung. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs