Classic Poem

But wheesht!—there 's Meg the Howdy-wife!—
Howdy-wife
Howdy-wife;
The sicht o' 'r like a bubbly-jock
Gars a' the lassies flee.

There 's naething that she disna ken,
Disna ken,
Disna ken,
Tho' truth she canna aye mak' oot—
But that 's 'tween you an' me.

She kens the ruit an' rise o' a',
Rise o' a',
Rise o' a';
An' for the kintra-side aboot
She has the pedigree.

On some she pits the fear o' deith,
Fear o' deith,
Fear o' deith,
For what she kens wad coup the cart
O' some that 's unco hie.

An' wha like her can dress a corp—
Dress a corp,
Dress a corp;
A' clean an' straucht in bonnie peace
Wad dae ye guid to see.

But whiles I think she kens the Deil,
Kens the Deil,
Kens the Deil;
For losh! it 's like a witch's gift—
The thing that 's in her e'e.

Wi' Muckle Meg be cannie O,
Cannie O,
Cannie O,
In case she kens a kittle thing
Wad irk ye like a flea.

But O she kens to bring them hame—
Bring them hame,
Bring them hame;
And bairns that get her Howdy-skelp
Need never fear the sea.

“‘Need never fear the sea,’ ye say?”
So they say,
So they say:
But Lord! than let her handle me
I think I 'd rather dee!!