'Ae hairst afore the Sherra-moor,-- [One harvest, Sherriffmuir] I mind't as weel's yestreen, [remember, last night] I was a gilpey then, I'm sure [young girl] I was na past fyfteen: The simmer had been cauld an' wat, An' stuff was unco green; [grain, extremely] An' aye a rantin' kirn we gat, [rollicking harvest-home] An' just on Halloween It fell that night.
'Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen, [chief harvester] A clever, sturdy fallow; His sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean, [son, child] That liv'd in Achmacalla; He gat hemp-seed,[14] I mind it weel, An' he made unco light o't: [very] But mony a day was by himsel, [beside himself] He was sae sairly frighted [sorely] That vera night.'
Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck, [fighting] An' he swoor by his conscience That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; [sow] For it was a' but nonsense: [merely] The auld guidman raught down the pock, [reached, bag] An' out a handfu' gied him; [gave] Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk, [Then] Sometime when nae ane see'd him, [saw] An' try't that night.
He marches thro' amang the stacks, Tho' he was something sturtin'; [staggering] The graip he for a harrow taks, [dung-fork] An' haurls at his curpin: [trails, back] An' ev'ry now an' then, he says, 'Hemp-seed! I saw thee, An' her that is to be my lass Come after me an' draw thee As fast this night.'
He whistled up Lord Lennox' march, To keep his courage cheery; Altho' his hair began to arch, He was sae fley'd an' eerie: [scared, awe-struck] Till presently he hears a squeak, An' then a grane an' gruntle; [groan] He by his shouther gae a keek, [shoulder gave, peep] An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle [summersault] Out-owre that night.
He roar'd a horrid murder-shout, In dreadfu' desperation! An' young an' auld come rinnin' out, An' hear the sad narration: He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw, [halting] Or crouchie Merran Humphie, [hunchbacked Marian] Till stop! she trotted thro' them a'; An' wha was it but grumphie [the sow] Asteer that night! [Astir]
Meg fain wad to the barn gane [have gone] To winn three wechts o' naething;[15] But for to meet the Deil her lane, [alone] She pat but little faith in: [put] She gies the herd a pickle nits, [herd-boy, few] And twa red-cheekit apples, To watch, while for the barn she sets, [sets out] In hopes to see Tam Kipples That very night.