Upon the spirit when it flies
And fain abune its stars ’ud rise.
And see I noo a great wheel move,
And a’ the notions that I love
Drap into stented groove and groove?
It maitters not my mind the day,
Nocht maitters that I strive to dae,
—For the wheel moves on in its ain way.
I sall be moved as it decides
To look at Life frae ither sides;