An’ syne at leisure clean devour

It oot o’ sicht?

Your crimson colour’s sae enticin’

In simmer gin the sun be risin’

I daursay they’ll need nae advisin’

Tae step in ow’r

Tae view an’ find the plan surprisin’

O sic a bow’r.

For oot again they canna wun;

Tho’ wee an’ gleg,[51] they’re fairly done,