An’ liv’d a lang and hearty life,
Right free o’ care, or toil, or strife,
Till she was stale;
An’ kend to be a canny wife
At brewing ale.
Then farewell Maggy, douce and fell,
O’ brewers a’ ye bore the bell;
Let a’ your gossips yelp and yell,
An’ without feed,
Guess whither ye’re in heaven or hell,