tting thowes,
in mony a torrent down the snaw-broo rowes;
while crashing ice, borne on the rolling spate,
sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate;
and from glenbuck, down to the ratton-key,
auld ayr is just ohen'd, tumbling sea—
then down ye'll hurl, (deil nor ye never rise!)
and dash the gumlie jaups up to the p skies!
a lesson sadly teag, to your cost,
that architecture's is lost!”
new brig
“fine architecture, trowth, i needs must say't o't,
the lord be thankit that we've tint the gate o't!
gaunt, gha
The Brigs Of Ayr(11/20)