The Dirdum.
It was a fearfu’ Dirdum, ae morning in the spring,
He hirpled down the brae his lane, a sair and grewsome thing.
The muckle buirdly dirdum, wi’ pawky glarin een,
And couched himsel amang the grass, whare he could na be seen.
Wee leein’ Jamie Nagle cam daunderin’ up the glen;
A fusionless camsteary chiel, aye answering back again.
And when auld Jock the cadger tauld him where the dirdum lay,
And warned him aff, he leugh, and sware he’d surely gang that way.
Sae on he went, and up he gat, and lang, fu’ lang, he staid—