And fain I wad be free
O’ my eternal me,
Nor fare mysel’ alane
—Withoot that tae be gane,
And this, I ha’e nae doot,
This road’ll bring aboot.
The munelicht that owre clear defines
The thistle’s shrill cantankerous lines
E’en noo whiles insubstantialises
Its grisly form and ’stead devises