“Oh tell me fit wis on yer road, ye roarin Norland wind?
As ye cam blawin fae the land that’s niver fae ma mind.
Ma feet they traivel England but I’m deein for the North.”
“Ma man, I saw the siller tides rin up the Firth o Forth.”

“Aye wind, I ken them weel eneuch an fine they fa and rise,
And fain I’d feel the creepin mist on yonder shore that lies.
But tell me as ye pass them by, fit saa ye on the way?”
“Ma man, I rocked the rovin gulls that sail abeen the Tay.”

“Bit saa ye naethin leein wind afore ye cam tae Fife?
For there’s muckle lyin ‘yont the Tay that’s mair tae me nor life.”
“Ma man, I swept the Angus braes ye hinna trod for years.”
“Oh wind, forgie a hameless loon that canna see for tears.”

“And far abune the Angus straths I saa the wild geese flee,
A lang, lang skein o beatin wings wi their heids toward the sea,
And aye their cryin voices trailed ahint them on the air.”
“Oh wind, hae mercy, haud yer wheesht for I daurna listen mair.”