Feedin’ on the munelicht and transformin’ it
To this wanrestfu’ growth that winna let me be.
The munelicht is the freedom that I’d ha’e
But for this cursèd Conscience thou hast set in me.
It is morality, the knowledge o’ Guid and Ill,
Fear, shame, pity, like a will and wilyart growth,
That kills a’ else wi’in its reach and craves
Nae less at last than a’ the warld to gi’e it scouth.
The need to wark, the need to think, the need to be,
And a’ thing that twists Life into a certain shape