Lyke a flaughte o’ fyre it gaede.
My hayre lyftit up my cap frae my heide,
Cauld sweite ran owre my bree,
The strengthe was reft frae my trummelan’ lymbs,
An’ I cower’t upo’ my knee.
’Twas ane horryble thochte to forgayther wi’ ghaysts,
Quhan I’d just been coynan’ a lee.
But awaye belyve like a troute frae a gedde,
Or a maukyn frae yammeran’ tykes,
I fledde nor styntyt to breathe or looke backe,