On the green little isle of Inchkenneth,
       &nbsp Who is it that walks by the shore,
So gay with his Highland blue bonnet,
       &nbsp So brave with his targe and claymore?

His form is the form of a giant,
       &nbsp But his face wears an aspect of pain;
Can this be the Laird of Inchkenneth?
       &nbsp Can this be Sir Allan McLean?

Ah, no! It is only the Rambler,
       &nbsp The Idler, who lives in Bolt Court,
And who says, were he Laird of Inchkenneth,
       &nbsp He would wall himself round with a fort.