And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
She’s daft to refuse the Laird o’ Cockpen.
“And now that the laird his exit had made,
Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said:
‘Oh! for ane I’ll get better, its waur I’ll get ten!
I was daft to refuse the Laird o’ Cockpen.’
“Next time the laird and the lady were seen,
They were gauin’ arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;
Now she sits in the ha’ like a weel-tappit hen—
But as yet there’s nae chickens appeared at Cockpen.”