For uprises the sun, wiʼ its birsʼlin heat, and birsles the gerss; “and its blume faʼs awa,” and the ee‐sweetness and beauty oʼ its face is gane! eʼen sae the rich man dwines awa in his ways.
Thir are they that are like hidlin rocks at yere love‐feasts, whan they feast wʼye; shepherds feedin theirsels withoot shame; cluds wantin moisture, by the winds driven on; trees oʼ the leaf‐faʼin, wantin frute, twice deid, rived up by the rutes;