And I’m feard my dream be true;
I dreamd that the rottens cam thro the wa,
And cuttit the covering blue.
6
‘Ye’ll rise, ye’ll rise, my auld gudeman,
And see gin this be true;’
‘If ye’re wanting rising, rise yoursel,
For I wish the auld chiel had you.’
7
‘I dreamed a dream sin late yestreen,