Of a’ the streams o’ Annandale
Wi’ names embalm’t i’ sang or story,
Gin Mylke, for beauty, beer the bell,
I think I’d gi’e the mell to Corrie.
It’s “up by Corrie—doon by Dryfe,”
(Gin a coortin’ ye wad toddle)
“That’s the gate to seek a wife”—
(Hoo daft aul’ rhymes bide in yin’s noddle!)
But sud ye take ye’re way by Corrie,
Till ye come gey near to Borelan’,