Wi' glowrin een, an' lifted han's, Poor Hughoc like a statue stan's;
He saw her days were near hand ended,
But, waes my heart! he could na mend it!
He gaped wide, but naething spak,
At length poor Mailie filence brak.
"O thou, whase lamentable face
Appears to mourn my woefu' cafe!
My dying words attentive hear,
An' bear them to my Mafter dear.
Tell him, if e'er again he keep
As muckle gear as buy a sheep,
O, bid him never tye them mair,
Wi' wicked strings o' hemp or hair!
But ca them out to park or hill,
An' let them wander at their will:
So, may his flock increase an' grow
To fcores o' lambs, an' packs of woo' !
Tell him, he was a Master kin',
An' ay was guid to me an' mine;
S MAILIE, an' her lambs thegither,
Was ae day nibbling on the tether,
Upon her cloot she coost a hitch,
An' owre fhe warfl'd in the ditch:
There, groaning, dying, she did ly,
When Hugboc he cam doytan by.
Wi' glowrin een, an' lifted han's, Poor Hughoc like a ftatue stan's;
He saw her days were near hand ended,
But, waes my heart! he could na mend it!
He gaped wide, but naething spak,
At length poor Mailie filence brak.
"O thou, whase lamentable face
Appears to mourn my woefu' cafe!
My dying words attentive hear,
An' bear them to my Mafter dear.
Tell him, if e'er again he keep
As muckle gear as buy a sheep,
O, bid him never tye them mair,
Wi' wicked ftrings o' hemp or hair!
But ca them out to park or hill,
An' let them wander at their will:
So, may his flock increase an' grow
To fcores o' lambs, an' packs of woo'!
Tell him, he was a Master kin',
An' ay was guid to me an' mine;
Was ae day nibbling on the tether,
Upon her cloot fhe cooft a hitch,
An' owre fhe warfl'd in the ditch:
There, groaning, dying, she did ly,
When Hugboc he cam doytan by.
Wi' glowrin een, an' lifted han's, Poor Hughoc like a ftatue ftan's;
He saw her days were near hand ended,
But, waes my heart! he could na mend it!
He gaped wide, but naething spak,
At length poor Mailie filence brak.
"O thou, whase lamentable face
Appears to mourn my woefu' case!
My dying words attentive hear,
An' bear them to my Mafter dear.
Tell him, if e'er again he keep
As muckle gear as buy a sheep,
O, bid him never tye them mair,
Wi' wicked ftrings o' hemp or hair!
But ca them out to park or hill,
An' let them wander at their will:
So, may his flock increase an'
To fcores o' lambs, an' packs of woo' !
Tell him, he was a Master kin',
An' ay was guid to me an' mine;
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