Fin I wis wee, wi leaward lug
Ma faither's Scots wis branch an bouer
An ower ma bairnhood, like an aik
His thochts an wirds war leaf an flouer.

Far ither's een turned soor an blear
On dubby park or dreepin Ben
Settin their sichts on gowd, or gear
Priceless, he caad the Tullich glen.

Fowk's mortal reets rin strang an deep
Sae at the hinmaist o his span
I laid him in his last, lang sleep
Near far his wardly ploys began.

Beeriet the bane, bit nae the virr
Langsyne it fand anither reest
Gin I draw nigh tae Lochanagar
A deid man's hairt lowps in ma breist.