Her head hit the roof-tree o' the house,
Her middle ye mot weel span;—
Each frightened huntsman fled the ha';
And left the king alone."
Her teeth was a' like tether stakes,
Her nose like club or mell;
And I ken naething she 'pear'd to be,
But the fiend that wons in hell.
(bierly, proper. mell, mallet. wons, dwells.)
"Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry;