It fell about the blythe New Year,
When days are short and nights are lang,
Ae bonie night, the starns were clear,
An' frost beneath my fit-stead rang;
I heard a carlin cry "relief!"
Atweesh her trams a birkie lay;
But he wan a quarter in her beef,
For a' the jirts the carlin gae.
She heaved tae, and he strak frae,
As he wad nail'd the carlin thro';
An ilka f—t the carlin gae,
It wad hae fill'd a pockie fou;
Temper your tail, the young man cried,
Temper your tail by Venus' law I
Double your dunts, the dame replied,
Wha the deil can hinder the wind tae blaw?