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The weather is caul’d,
and my claithing is thin;
The ewes are new clipped,
and the winna bught in;
They winna bught in,
though I should die,
O yellow-hair’d laddie,
be kind unto me.
They winna bught in, &c.
The goodwife cries butt the house,
Jenny come ben,
The cheese is to make,
and the butter's to kirn,
Though butter and cheese,
and a‘ should sour.
I’ll crack we‘ my love,
ae haff hour;
It‘s ae haff hour,
and we s e’en make it three
For the yellow-hair’d laddie,
my husband shall be.
It’s ae haff hour, &c.
