The kye seek shelter frae the blast;
Distracted wi’ the wintry weather
The sheep are huddled a’ thagether:
The birds, puir things, are blawn awa’—
Even the sea-mew and the craw.
You needna come to Appin noo
The wiley beetle to pursue:
Clockers and bugs o’ every kind
Are bashed and batter’d by the wind,
And kill’d are a’ the chrysalises—