1783

death and dying words of poor mailie, the author's only pet yowe., the

an unco mournfu' tale

as mailie, an' her lambs thegither,

was ae day nibbling on the tether,

upon her cloot she coost a hitch,

an' owre she warsl'd in the ditch:

there, groaning, dying, she did lie,

when hughoc he cam doytin by.

wi' glowrin een, and lifted han's

poor hughoc like a statue stan's;

he saw her days were near-hand ended,

but, wae's my heart! he could na mend it!

he gaped wide, but naething spak,

at langth poor mailie silence brak.

“o thou, whase lamentable face

appears to mourn my woefu' case!

my dying words attentive hear,

an' bear them to my master dear.

“tell him, if e'er again he keep

as muckle gear as buy a sheep—

o, bid him never tie them mair,

wi' wicked strings o' hemp or hair!

but ca' them out to park or hill,

an' let them wander at their will:

so may his flock increase, an' grow

to scores o' lambs, an' packs o' woo'!

“tell him, he was a master kin',

an' aye was guid to me an' mine;

an' now my dying charge i gie him,

my helpless lambs, i trust them wi' him.

“o, bid him save their harmless lives,

frae dogs, an' tods, an' butcher's knives!

but gie them guid cow-milk their fill,

till they be fit to fend themsel';