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This darksome burn, horseback brown
His rollrock highroad roaring down
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning
It rounds and rounds _Despair to drowning
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through
Wiry beathpacks, flitches of fern
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wilderness?
Let them be left
O let them be left, wilderness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

Text přidal roman59

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