An’ but an’ ben made sic a rout
Wi’ hands and feet,
That she began twa-fauld about
The house to creep.
Then dool an’ sorrow interveen’d;
For Jack nae langer could be screen’d,
My lass upon her breast she lean’d,
An’ gae a skirl.
The canny wives came there conveen’d,
An’ in a whirl.