‘O nurse my bairn, nourice,
Till he stan’ at your knee,
An ye’s win hame to Christen land
Whar fain it’s ye wad be.
IX
‘O keep my bairn, nourice,
Till he gang by the hauld[97],
An ye’s win hame to your young son
Ye left in four nights auld.
X
‘O nourice lay your head
[Here] upo’ my knee:
See ye not that narrow road
Up by yonder tree?
XI
[‘See ye not the narrow road
By yon lillie leven?]
That’s the road the righteous goes
And that’s the road to heaven.
XII
‘An’ see na ye that braid road
Down by yon sunny fell?
Yon’s the road the wicked gae,
An’ that’s the road to hell.