The sotter ma sheens’ in, ’s fair orra.
Neebors caa it scunnerin, ’speecially the weemin.
They winna trauchle on wi me
Muckle langer … Caad tae crockanation!
An syne far’ll they fin
A hame an maister?
Owerby, in yon airt far aa sheen feenish
They’ll jyne the raws
O buits an safties an sheen
O ilkie makk an age
Timmer, leather nails
Frae ilkie neuk —
The fairmer’s buits,
Aside the quines gowd sandals
Raxxed tae the shape o taes
Bauchled an steeped
In human swyte;
Umpteen thoosan sheen
Haived in the same neuk.
The sheen o bonnie quine,
Chiel, bairn an shelt,
Yon selfsame neuk’s
Their weird.