For he thochte he hearit ane drounyng man
Syching alangis the heuin.
That nychte ane greate Filossofere
Had watchit on Etnyis height,
To merk the rysing of the sonne,
And the blythsum mornyng lychte;
And all the lychtlye lynis of goude,
As on the se they fell,
And watch the fyir and the smoke,
Cum rummilyng up fra hell.