And frost and snaw’s o’er ilka dale,
Robin of Norham lost his way,
And at Capheaton thus did quail:—
O whether this is lairdly ha’,
Or poor man’s shield, O let me in;
I’m a poor Piper lost my way,
Unsneck your door and let me in.
O pity take, and dinna scorn,
Heffell[64] and I will die e’er morn;
I’ll screw my pipes and heartsome play,