Rejoice, rebel, its turn abides.
And as I see the great wheel spin
There flees a licht frae’t lang and thin
That Earth is like a snaw-ba’ in.
(To the uncanny thocht I clutch
—The nature o’ man’s soul is such
That it can ne’er wi’ life tine touch.
Man’s mind is in God’s image made,
And in its wildest dreams arrayed
In pairt o’ Truth is still displayed.