The hauflins ’yont the burgh boonds
Gang ilka nicht, and a’ the same,
Their bonnets cocked; their bluid that stounds
Is playin’ at a fine auld game.
And on the lochan there, hauf-herted
Wee screams and creakin’ oar-locks soon’,
And in the lift, heich, hauf-averted,
The mune looks owre the yirdly roon’.
And ilka evenin’, derf and serious
(Jean ettles nocht o’ this, puir lass),