Neea cleeaser did wa ivver git,
Neea gerter leead it ivver teeak;
Ten yards i’ front o’ Billy bitch—
Fra t’ fost it seeam’d a narrer squeeak.
At last ’mang heather, brackken, whin,
Lang stanghow bru’, wi’ hosses blawn,
An’ Billy bitch wi’ tongue loll’d oot,
Fair beeaten it war fain ti awn.
Just when, wi’ yah gert loup, t’ bitch thowt
Ti grab t’ hare haunch, t’ poor spent au’d bitch