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	Comments on: Don Cline 1949-2019: The Woof of Churchill and the Warp of Scotland	</title>
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	<description>Senior Fellow, Hillsdale College Churchill Project, Writer and Historian</description>
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		By: Judy Eaton		</title>
		<link>http://localhost:8080/don-cline#comment-32286</link>

		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Judy Eaton]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 13:48:09 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Lorraine, my deepest sympathy to you and your family. Keeping you all in my thoughts and prayers.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Lorraine, my deepest sympathy to you and your family. Keeping you all in my thoughts and prayers.</p>
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		<title>
		By: Richard Munro		</title>
		<link>http://localhost:8080/don-cline#comment-32278</link>

		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Richard Munro]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 00:19:50 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Very touching piece.  I am sorry he did not finish Andrew Roberts&#039;magisterial book.  But he had  a very good taste of it.   I don&#039;t know but I imagine he knew Scottish poetry and musical traditions and national music very deeply.  Scots Wha Hae etc. and Auld Lang Syne  ....O I had ance a true love but now I&#039;ve nane at a&#039; and I had three braw brither but I hae tint them a&#039; My fayther and my mither sleep in the mools this day. I sit her a&#039; amang my lane aboon Sweet Rothsay bay. &#039;Tis a bonnie bay at morning and bonnier at the noon and bonniest when the sun draps an&#039; red comes up the moon. And the mist creap o&#039;ver the Cumbrays and Aran&#039;s peaks are grey and the hill sleep like kings aboon sweet Rothsay Bay!]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Very touching piece.  I am sorry he did not finish Andrew Roberts’magisterial book.  But he had  a very good taste of it.   I don’t know but I imagine he knew Scottish poetry and musical traditions and national music very deeply.  Scots Wha Hae etc. and Auld Lang Syne  ….O I had ance a true love but now I’ve nane at a’ and I had three braw brither but I hae tint them a’ My fayther and my mither sleep in the mools this day. I sit her a’ amang my lane aboon Sweet Rothsay bay. ‘Tis a bonnie bay at morning and bonnier at the noon and bonniest when the sun draps an’ red comes up the moon. And the mist creap o’ver the Cumbrays and Aran’s peaks are grey and the hill sleep like kings aboon sweet Rothsay Bay!</p>
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