The bonnie birds are winged an gaen,
Yowes hug the dykes like driven sna:
The anely cry that rings the rigs,
The brukken caa'in o the craw.

An cauldly cruel's the win that cuts
The birks sae barely dreepin.
Its wail's as waesome as a wake,
As if the lan itsel wis greetin.
A door on creakin hinges set,
The auld an New Year's meetin.

Syne simmer days an simmer thochts
Are deid leaves blawn an dwined,
As Life an Daith, thimsels they mirl,
Foriver intertwined.
Future's unkent; the Past is past;
Bit sairly present till the mind.

Like Birth itsel we canna tell
If hairst will follow breirin,
The winter smore that furls the door
Is fite as hope, as dark as leavin.
The young fowk blythely forrit step,
The auld anes, latchy, grievin.