Page:Ewie wi' the crooked horn.pdf/3

3 A better nor a thritier beast, Nae honest man could weel hae wist, For, silly thing, she never mist To hae ilk year a lamb or twa.

The first she had I gae to Jock, To be to him a kind of stock, And now the laddie has a flock Of mair than thirty head ava.

I looked aye at e’ening for her, Lest mishanter should come o’er her, Or the fumart would devour her, If the beastie bade awa.

Yet last ouk for a’ my keeping, Wha can speak it without weeping, A villain cam when I was sleeping. Aud staw my ewie, horn and a’.

I sought her sair upon the morn, And down beneath a bush o’ thorn I fand my ewie’s crooked horn, But my ewie was awa.

But gin I had the loon that did it, I hae sworn as weel as said it, Though a’ the warld should forbid it, I wad gie bis neck a thraw.

I never met wi sic a turn As this since ever I was born, My ewie wi’ the crooked horn, Silly ewie stown awa.