Hard on the meenit-heid
She snibs her buik.
Her schule-marm suit,
Sterched stiff, in Bible black,
Nae fripperies o' stertlin fite
For the bairns' distraction.

Perjink — "Ye'll write yon oot again!"
Skeely at the frozen wird:
Repression's proselyte.

Dreams ding doon the paragon
At nicht, agin her single-sarkit barrenness.
A black bull snorts foriver at the gate,
An cloven-hooved, rampages
Ben the byewyes o' her laneliness.

Neist morn, pink-chikkit,
Pittin on her Sabbath face,
Miss McBrodie, spinster o' the parish,
Primly doupin doon within the pew,
Adds her collection meekly till the plate,
Prays fervent for a minor miracle.
Nae burnin bush or movin mountain,
Anely, a blythe bed, an a sturdy mate.