_I saw rain falling and the rainbow drawn_ _On Lammermuir_. _Hearkening I heard again_ _In my precipitous city beaten bells_ _Winnow the keen sea wind_. _And here afar_, _Intent on my own race and place_, _I wrote_. _Take thou the writing_: _thine it is_. _For who_ _Burnished the sword_, _blew on the drowsy coal_, _Held still the target higher_, _chary of praise_ _And prodigal of counsel—who but thou_? _So now_, _in the end_, _if this the least be good_, _If any deed be done_, _if any fire_ _Burn in the imperfect page_, _the praise be thine_. In the wild end of a moorland parish, far out of the sight of any house, there stands a cairn among the heather, and a little by east of it, in the go…
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