Clues to the vieve and maikless life that’s lain
Happit for centuries in an alien gloom....
Eneuch! For noo I’m in the mood,
Scotland, responsive to my thoughts,
Lichts mile by mile, as my ain nerves,
Frae Maidenheid to John o’ Groats!
What are prophets and priests and kings,
What’s ocht to the people o’ Scotland?
Speak—and Cruivie’ll goam at you,
Gilsanquhar jalouse you’re dottlin!