—See white clints slidin’ to the sea,
And hear the horns o’ Elfland blaw.
I ha’e dark secrets’ turns and twists,
A sun is gi’en to me to haud,
The whisky in my bluid insists,
And spiers my benmaist history, lad.
And owre my brain the flitterin’
O’ the dim feathers gangs aince mair,
And, faddomless, the dark blue glitterin’
O’ twa een in the ocean there.