‘The’r at yer gate, Brichell, the’r nether men nor lads,
Bat silly heard widifaus, we belted plaids.
3
‘O if I had a man,’ she says, ‘as it louks I haa nean,
He widne sit in the house an see my kay tean.
4
‘Bat, lasses, tak doun yer rokes, an we will defend,’
. . . . . . . . . .
5
‘O kiss me, d[ea]r Peggey, an gee me doun my gun,