down ge's street i stoited;

a creeping cauld prosaic fog

very sense doited.

do what i dought to set her free,

sauly in the re;

ye turned a neuk—i saw your e'e—

she took the wing like fire!

the urnfu' sang i here enclose,

in gratitude i send you,

and pray, in rhy as weel as prose,

a' gude things y attend you!