He wistl'd up Lord Lennox' March To keep his courage cherry; Altho' me hair began to arch He was sae fley'd an' eerie: Till presently we hears a squeak An' then a grane an' gruntle; An over me shouther gae a keek An' tumbled wi' a wintle He roar'd a horrid murder-shout In dreadfu' desperation! An' young an' auld come rinnin out To hear the sad narration: He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw Or crouchie Merran Humphie- Till stop! she trotted thro' them a'; And wha was it but grumphie Upon that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans dance Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the rout is ta'en Beneath the moon's beams; There, up the Cove, to stray an' rove Amang the rocks and streams Fu' blythe that night Amang the brachens, on the brae Between her an' the moon The devil, or else an outler quey Gat up an' ga'e a croon: Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool; Near lav'rock-height she jumpit But mist a fit, an' in the pool Out-owre the lugs she plumpit Amang the bonie winding banks Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear; Where Bruce ance rul'd the martial ranks An' shook his Carrick spear; Some merry, friendly, countra-folks Together did convene To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks An' haud their Halloween Fu' blythe that night Wee Jenny to her graunie says "Will ye go wi' me, graunie? I'll eat the apple at the glass I gat frae uncle Johnnie:" She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt In wrath she was sae vap'rin She notic't na an aizle brunt Her braw, new, worset apron Ye little skelpie-limmer's face! I daur you try sic sportin As seek the foul thief ony place For him to spae your fortune: Nae doubt but ye may get a sight! Great cause ye hae to fear it; For mony a ane has gotten a fright An' liv'd an' died deleerit Upon that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans dance Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the rout is ta'en Beneath the moon's beams; There, up the Cove, to stray an' rove Amang the rocks and streams Amang the bonie winding banks Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear; Where Bruce ance rul'd the martial ranks An' shook his Carrick spear; Some merry, friendly, countra-folks Together did convene To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks An' haud their Halloween