The Wild Deer

Theres suns in the dew blebs 
Like diamonds they shine 
Theres beads on the cobwebs 
& the thorn is divine 
With the dews o' the e'ening 
& gems o' the morning 
The ilka leafs leaning 
Wi' natures adorning 
The muircock is whirrin 
The patrich is scraitchin 
The bum-clock is burrin 
& the wild deer is reaching

The moss by the burn side 
Then hieing away 
When near him the churn cried 
& the mist curdled grey

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