Their loves enjoy,
While thro’ the braes the cushat croods
Wi’ wailfu’ cry!
“Ev’n winter bleak has charms to me
When winds rave thro’ the naked tree;
Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree
Are hoary gray;
Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee,
Dark’ning the day!
“O Nature a’ thy shews and forms