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Rh

O were I able to rehearſe

My ewie’s praiſe in proper verſe,

I’d found it out as loud and fierce

As ever piper’s drone cou’d blaw.

The ewie wi’ the crooked horn,

Well deſerv’d haith garſe and corn;

Sic a ewie ne’er was born,

Hereabout or far awa’.

I neither needed tar nor kee

To mark her upo or heel,

Her crooked horn it did as weel,

To ken her by amo’ them a’.

The ewie. &c.

She never threaten’d ſeab nor rot,

But keeped av her ain jog trot.

Baith to the fauld and to the cot,

Was never ſweer to lead or ca’.

The ewie &c

Nae cauld nor hunger ever dang her;

No wind nor rain cou’d ever wrang her,

For anes ſhe lay’d a week an’ langer

Aneath a dreary wreath of ſnaw.

The ewie, &c.