He’d Awa

He’d awa tae rin the loopin burn,

Fin wunthers bricht at ivery turn,

An lichtly lep frae broo tae broo:

But it’s got strechter, braider noo.

He’d fin the wie nixt Belnamore,

For thon’s an owl-kent pad weel wore

Wae cantie lilties flippin by:

But flippin’s naw the dreechle’s wie.

He’d chak yince mair, wae ither een,

The thoom-blakked chairt he yince wuz gien,

Fin pads wae nether slunk nor qua:

But yin’s the waitin en o a’.

He’d prog the thochts o speerin men,

Whar naw a questin jooks the pen

In wechty books, a despert power:

But a’ the prent’s thoom-blirried ower.

He’d whiles awa tae Slamish tap,

A brither tae the hare an whap,

An wutless in the rashes lie:

But thrang’s the road, the brae sae stie.

But noo he’s fun this pair o wings,

An leppin frae the greeshoch, sings,

An lake the leverock, licht as wun,

Flees heech an heecher nixt the sun.