Robert Burns who came from Ayrshire in Scotland starts one of his Scottish poems:
Is there a whim-inspired fool,
Owe fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool?
Let him draw near;
And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
And drap a tear.
Perhaps he was looking out over the Ailsa Craig which is published here courtesy of Scotland for Visitors