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The stars are steady abune; / I' the water they flichter and flee; / But, steady aye, luikin doon / They ken theirsels i' the sea.
A' licht, and clear, and free, / God, thou shinest abune; / Yet luik, and see thysel in me, / Aye on me luikin doon.
Throu the heather an' how gaed the creepin thing, / But abune was the waff o' an angel's wing.
Hither an' thither, here an' awa, / Into the dub ye maunna fa'; / Oot o' the dub wad ye come wi' speed, / Ye maun lift yer han's abune yer heid.
Whaur's nor sun nor mune, / Laigh things come abune.
My thouchts are like worms in a starless gloamin / My hert's like a sponge that's fillit wi' gall; / My soul's like a bodiless ghaist sent a roamin / I' the haar an' the mirk till the trumpet call.
Lord, turn ilk worm til a butterflee, / Wring oot my hert, an' fill 't frae thy ain; / My soul syne in patience its weird will dree, / An' luik for the mornin throu the rain.