12
Wi mony a gaunt she turned her round,
And keekit through at a wee hole;
‘It’s by my sooth!’ the wee lassie goud say,
‘Our mear has gotten a braw brown foal!’
13
‘Lie still, lie still, ye lazy lass,
It’s but the moon shines in your ee;’
‘Na, by my sooth,’ the lassie goud say,
‘And he’s bigger than ony o his degree.’