I wadna gie a button for her.
“She’s bow-houghed, she’s hein-shinn’d,
Ae limpin’ leg, a hand-breed shorter;
She’s twisted right, she’s twisted left
To balance fair in ilka quarter:
She has a hump upon her breast
The twin o’ that upon her shouther—
Sic a wife as Willie has,
I wadna gie a button for her.”
No idea there is strained. Every word is common. The same may be said of Hew Ainshe’s lyric poem in a different vein, “Dowie in the hint o’ Hairst,” which I make no apology for quoting in full:—