The kinds o’ English, and o’ Scots,
The least congenial to my thoughts.
Hauf his soul a Scot maun use
Indulgin’ in illusions,
And hauf in gettin’ rid o’ them
And comin’ to conclusions
Wi’ the demoralisin’ dearth
O’ onything worth while on Earth....
I’m weary o’ the rose as o’ my brain,
And for a deeper knowledge I am fain