High shelt’ring woods and wa’s maun shield;
But thou, beneath the random bield,
O’ clod or stane,
Adorns the histie stibble-field,
Unseen, alane.
There in thy scanty mantle clad,
Thy snawy bosom sun-ward spread,
Thou lifts thy unassuming head
In humble guise;
But now the share uptears thy bed,