Vrom night-bedarken'd vields abrode,
Wi' nimble hands, at evenèn, blest
Wi' vire an' vood my hard-won rest;
The while the little woones did clim',
So sleek-skinn'd, up from lim' to lim',
Till, strugglèn hard an' clingèn tight,
They reach'd at last my feäce's height.
All tryèn which could soonest hold
My mind wi' little teäles they twold.
An' riddèn house is such a caddle,