A poem bi Charles d'Orléans.
Tide haes its mantle awa'-pit, O wind, o cauld an o rain, An is chaffit a' floorishin, O shinin sun, clear an bonnie.
Thar is næ a beast nor birdie, Wha in its leid næ sing nor cry; Tide haes its mantle awa'-pit, A' wind, a' cauld, an a' rainy.
River, fountain an burn
Chaff, in a wallie sae bonnie, Drap o sillar o sillarie; Ilka ane chaffs ance again: Tide haes its mantle awa'-pit.
Winter: thou art a limmer. Simmer is pleasin an douce, As ye kan see Mey an April, Convoyin her frae mornin till e'enin.
Simmer weirs fields, wids an flours
In her a' green an nice hoosie
An o mony ither colours
Bi the decree o Naitur.
But thee, Winter, art fu' an a'
O snaw, wind, rain an sleet; We shoud bainish thee in exile! Without flatter, A tawk truith: Winter, thou art a limmer.