Up gat Kate that ſat i’the nook,
Vow Kimmer, and how do ye?
Up he gat, and ca’d her a Limmer,
And ruggit and tuggid her cockernonie.
They houkit his grave in Duket’s kirk-yard,
E’en far frae the companie;
But whan they were gawn to lay’n i’the yird,
The feint a dead nor dead was he.
And whan they brought him to Duket’s kirk-yard,
He dunted on the kiſt, the boards did flie,
And whan they were gawn to put’m i’the yird,
In fell the kiſt, and out lap he.
He cry’d, I’m cauld, I’m unca cauld,
Fu’ faſt ran the fowk, and fu’ faſt ran he:
But he was firſt hame at his ain ingle ſide,
And he helped to drink his ain dirgie.
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MY APRON DEARY.
’TWas early in the morning, a morning of May,
A ſoldier and a laſſie was walking aſtray,
Cloſe down in yon meadow, yon meadow brow,
I heard the laſs cry, My apron now.
Chorus,
My apron, deary, my apron now,
My belly bears up my apron now:
But I, being a young thing, was eaſy to woo,
Which makes me cry out, My apron now.
O had I ta’en counſel of father or mother,
Or had I adviſed with ſiſter or brother;
But I, being a young thing, and eaſy to woo;
It makes me cry out, My apron now.
My, apron deary, my apron now, &c.
