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Nae lik yon vauntie swankie kennspeckle Greek
Wi muckle shanks attower frae laun tae laun;
Here at oor sey-washen, yetts o mirk will staun
A michty quine wi a bleeze, wha’s licht
Is yon taigled fire-flaucht, an her ca’d
Mither o Ootlins. Frae her bale haun
A warle-wide bidding alowe; her douce een ettle
At yon lift-brig hythe wi twa touns forby.
“Auld launs, haud yer gree!” crys she
Frae wheesht mou. “Gie me yer trauchled, yer wersh,
Yer cooried currieboram yeukin tae win free,
Yon yowden hinneren o yer heezin strand.
Set is eens, yon herbriles, blatter-howd tae me,
I heyze my cruisie yont yon gowden yett!”