I've seen the day ye butter'd my brose, oatmeal and hot water
And cuddl'd me late and earlie, O;
But downa-do's come o'er me now, cannot-do is
And, oh, I find it sairly, O! feel it sorely
WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR?
‘Wha is that at my bower door?’
‘O wha is it but Findlay?’
‘Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here!’ go, way, shall not
‘Indeed maun I,’ quo' Findlay. must
‘What mak ye, sae like a thief?’ do