A missionary was just trying to convert me to his religion.

She moved about the country like a ghost, gathering herbs in dark loanings, lingering in kirkyairds, and casting a blight on innocent bairns.

A fire burned on the rock and fat dripped from the roasting pigmeat into the invisible flames. Penguin (1988), Perigee Books, →ISBN, page 151

But now how stands the wind? Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill?