And some said he ne’er in the warld was born.
He wandered the kintra, east, north, south, and west,
And gaed aye to ca’ on them wha used him best!
Alane in some glen he at morn micht be seen,
But nae ane kent whar he micht be or ’twas e’en:
Pale, pale was his lank cheek, but dark lowered his brow,
An’ his black e’e seemed glancing wi’ unearthly lowe,
He lauched at the sorrows that made ithers weep,
An’ never was he kent to slumber or sleep.
In through the key hole, or doun through the lum,