Dicky’s turnd his horse about,
And he has turnd it hastilly:
‘Come through, come thro, my lieutenant,
Come thro this day, and drink wi me,
And thy dinner’s be dressd in Annan Holme,
It sall not cost thee one penny.’
42
‘I think some witch has bore the, Dicky,
Or some devil in hell been thy daddy;
I woud not swum that wan water double-horsed,