p. 303
Facsimile
Transcription
Status: Incomplete
IV The hawkit Crummie cast down nae milk
He kinned nor butter gat,
And a' gaed wrang & nought gard right
He danced wi' rage & grat.
Then up he ran to the head o' the Knowe
Wi' mony a wave & shout
She heard him as she heard him not
And steered the Stots About.
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