"A dominie, lass, is a man amang loons
Nae denyin ye that —
Bit a loon amang men.
The craiturs are aa verra weel —
Bit fit div they ken aboot calvin, or hyowin,
Or onythin' eese?
Thon oot-lyin parks, priggin sair fur the ploo
Wis mair nur eneuch fur yer ain.
Buik-learnin?” He spat i' the fire.
"Get merriet an bairned,
Fur fit mair sud a lassie desire?"

Fin the nichts are dreich, an stark,
I've thocht on him, lang an lang
Yon auld man, happt i' the lee o the kirk
Buik learnin's the anely mead
That a mind cud wint
Bit the grun spiks aye tae the bluid
O an heirskip tint.