The Slichtit Lassie's Sang

Hard an sudden, as the huntsman's shot
Sinks i' the saftness o the snawy dove,
Deep as the dirk on its derk business quests,
I' the gralloch o the stag,
Sae wad I loue ye, love.

I'd mak my skin as firm's a coral bed
Whaur on fite flesh ye'd slip like ony eel,
I'd be the sea anemone, wha's poised
Tae clook, an claw, an steal
The smaaest pleisur, frae the gangrel faem.
Till Lang an slow the shuddrin tide draws back
A sated eagle, glutted o her prey,
Syne wad my talons slack.

I'd be the yird, an ye wad be the tree,
Sae straucht an siccar, raxxin fur the lift.
The cloud may haud the leaf — an I'd agree
Tae grip the reet, sae ticht ye'd niver shift.

Gin thochts be lochan's waves, it's hairmless thinkin
The watter seeks the san, an haps it roon.
The fish may loup the linn, as swack as jinkin,
An niver droon.

Bit ay I wauken, like a hungry ghaist
Wha's traivelled ower a brae o barren stane,
Kent anely consummation o the mist,
Swickit o warmth, ma bonnie lover gaen.

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