Let us enjoy deceit, this instinct in us.
Licht cheenges naething,
And gin there is a God wha made the licht
We are adapted to receive,
He cheenged naething,
And hesna kythed Hissel!
Save in this licht that fa’s whaur the Auld Nicht was,
Showin’ naething that the Darkness didna hide,
And gin it shows a pairt o’ that
Confoondin’ mair than it confides