That nycht ane hynde on Border syde

Chancit at his dore to be;

He spyit ane greate clypse of the mone,

And ben the house ran he;

He laide ane wisp upon the colis,

And bleue full lang and sayre,

And rede the Belfaste Almanake,

But the clypse it wase not there.

Och but that hynde wase sor aghaste,

And haf to madnesse driuen,