Would pull on the bellrope that swung by the door.
Then was the bolt drawn quickly back back—
Then did the jolly crew stream in;
And—”Landlaird, bring us your best auld sack!”
And—”Aweel, aweel, where hae ye been?”
Then Skye, of Skye, on the beach-white floor,
Sanded that day by the housemaid neat,
Lay down to rest him—his vigils o’er,
With his honest nose between his feet.
But Skye, of Skye as he rolled his eye