‘Come on, an’ ye be to come on!’ say he,
‘Ye’re bound for the Island to live wi’ me.’
See Rachray Island beyont in the bay,
And the dear knows what they be doin’ out there
But fishin’ and fightin’ and tearin’ away,
An’ who’s to hinder, an’ what do they care?
The goodness can tell what ’ud happen to me
When Rachray ’ud have me, anee, anee!
I might have took Pether from over the hill,
A dacent poacher, the kind, poor boy: