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“I thought me on the ourie cattle, Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle O’ wintry war; Or thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle, Beneath a scaur.

List'ning the doors an' winnocks rattle; I think me on the ourie cattle, Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle O' winter war, And thro' the drift, deep-lairing sprattle, Beneath a scaur!

I thought me on the ourie cattle, Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle O' wintry war, Or thro' the drift, deep-lairing sprattle, Beneath a scaur.

Listening at home while the storm made the doors and windows rattle, he bethought him on the cattle and sheep and birds outside— 'I thought me on the ourie cattle Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle O' wintry war, And thro' the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle Beneath a scaur.'

Or thro' the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle, Beneath a scaur.