“They’ll turn me in your arms, Janet,
A red-hot gad o’ airn;
But haud me fast, let me not pass,
For I’ll do you no harm.
“And, next, they’ll shape me in your arms,
A tod, but and an eel;
But haud me fast, nor let me gang,
As you do love me weel.
“They’ll shape me in your arms, Janet,