Then Lamkin he rocked,
And the fause nourice sang,
Till frae ilka bore o' the cradle
The red blood out sprang.
Then out it spak the lady,
As she stood on the stair,
"What ails my bairn, nourice,
That he's greeting sae sair?
"O still my bairn, nourice;
O still him wi' the pap!"