The cocks could craw, the day could daw,
And I wot sae even fell down the rain;
Had Hobble na wakened at that time,
In the Foulbogshiel he had been ta'en or slain.
"Awake, awake, my feres five!
I trow here makes a fu' ill day;
Yet the worst cloak o' this company,
I hope, shall cross the Waste this day."
Now Hobbie thought the gates were clear;
But, ever alas! it was na sae: