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Fine div I ken what ails yon puddock, Janet,
That aince would hae her neb set up sae hie;
There's them that disna' seem to understan' it,
I'se warrant ye it's plain eneuch to me!
...

O Logie Kirk amang the braes,
I'm thinkin' o' the merry days
Afore I trod thae weary ways
That led me far frae Logie!

Fine do I mind when I was young
Abune thy graves the mavis sung...

O Jean, my Jean, when the bell ca's the congregation
Owre valley an' hill wi' the ding frae its iron mou',
When a'body's thochts is set on his ain salvation,
Mine's set on you.
...

It was faur-ye-weel, my dear, that the gulls were cryin'
At the kirk beside the sands,
Whaur the saumon-nets lay oot on the bents for dryin',
Wi' the tar upon their strands;
...