In liquor, raw yet still mysterious,
A’e freend’s aye mirrored in my glass.
Ahint the sheenin’ coonter gruff
Thrang barmen ding the tumblers doun
“In vino veritas” cry rough
And reid-een’d fules that in it droon.
But ilka evenin’ fey and fremt
(Is it a dream nae wauk’nin’ proves?)
As to a trystin’-place undreamt,
A silken leddy darkly moves.