<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html charset=us-ascii"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 34pt;"><span class=""><span class="">Scotland <o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class=""> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">It was a day peculiar to this piece of the planet</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;">when larks rose on long thin strings of singing</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -45pt; line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">and the air shifted with the shimmer of actual angels.<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">Greenness entered the body. The grasses<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">shivered with presences and sunlight<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">stayed like a halo on hair and heather and hills.<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">Walking into town, I saw, in a radiant raincoat,<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">the woman from the fish-shop. 'What a day it is!'<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">cried I, like a sunstruck madman.<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">And what did she have to say for it?<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -40.5pt; line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">Her brow grew bleak, her ancestors raged in their graves<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class="">as she spoke with their ancient misery:<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 28pt;"><span class=""><span class=""> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class=""><span class="">'We'll pay for it, we'll pay for it, we'll pay for it!'<o:p class=""></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class=""><span class=""> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class=""><span class=""> -</span></span><span class=""><span class=""> Alastair Reid</span></span></p></body></html>