Upon a simmer Sunday morn,
When Nature's face is fair,
I walked forth to view the corn,
An' snuff the caller air. fresh
The risin' sun, owre Galston muirs,
Wi' glorious light was glintin';
The hares were hirplin' down the furrs, limping, furrows
The lav'rocks they were chantin' larks
Fu' sweet that day.
As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad, stared