The minister’s mare was as gude a gray mare
As ever was saddled, or bridled, or shod;
Be’t foul or be’t fair, be’t late or be’t air,
She nichered aye gladly when takin’ the road.
The minister late in the e’ening cam hame,
And stabled his marie, and heapit her heck,
And gae her a forpit o’ oats to her wame,
And theekit her cozily wi’ an auld sack.
And the minister’s wife wi’ a bowet cam out,
For a tenty and mensefu’ wife was she;