I stopped tae spik wi Wattie Spence,
He wis a moosie, gaitherin corn.
His hale confab, wis pounds an pence
The nest, he'd feather-bed the morn.

I stopped tae spik wi John McBride
He cheeped incessant, like a jay
Fin he drew braith, dumfoonert, I'd
Forgotten fit I meant tae say!

I stopped tae spik wi Solomon.
He gied nae wird, bit luikit lang
Far lilies blossomed neth the sun,
Raw upon raw, a thrivin thrang.

"Fit kinna confab's yon?" said I
"The lilies dinna news, nor speir,
They dinna puzzle, murn, nor sigh
Nor winner fit they're daein here!"

An syne I stopped, fur syne I kent
Fit incommunicado meant
We sodjer on, as best we can
As wi the lilies, sae wi man.