Create oorsels, syne bairns, syne race.
Sae on the cod I see’t in you
Wi’ Maidenkirk to John o’ Groats
The bosom that you draw me to.
And nae Scot wi’ a wumman lies,
But I am he and ken as ’twere
A stage I’ve passed as he maun pass’t,
Gin he grows up, his way wi’ her!...
A’thing wi’ which a man
Can intromit’s a wumman,