When maukin bucks, at early fucks,
In dewy grass are seen, Sir,
And birds, on boughs, take off their mows
Among the leaves sae green, Sir;
Latona's sun looks liquorish on
Dame Nature's grand impetus
Till his prick go rise, then westward flies
To roger Madame Thetis.
Yon wandering rill that marks the hill,
And glances o'er the brae, Sir,
Slides by a bower where many a flower
