them wander at their will;
So may his flock increase, an' grow
To scores o' lambs, an' packs o' woo'! [wool]
'Tell him he was a Master kin',
An' aye was guid to me an' mine;
An' now my dying charge I gie him, [give]
My helpless lambs, I trust them wi' him.
'O bid him save their harmless lives
Frae dogs, an' tods, an' butchers' knives! [foxes]
But gie them guid cow-milk their fill,
Till they be fit to fend themsel: [look after]
An' tent them duly, e'en an' morn, [tend]
Wi' teats o' hay an' ripps o' corn. [bunches, handfuls]
'An' may they never learn the gates [ways]
Of ither vile wanrestfu' pets-- [restless]
To slink thro' slaps, an' reave an' steal, [holes in fences]
At stacks o' pease, or stocks o' kail. [plants]
So may they, like their great forbears,
For mony a year come thro' the shears;
So wives will gie them bits o' bread,
An' bairns greet for them when they're dead. [weep]
'My poor tup-lamb, my son an' heir,
O bid him breed him up wi' care!
An', if he live to be a beast,
To pit some havins in his breast! [put, behavior]
An' warn him, what I winna name, [will not]
To stay content wi' yowes at hame; [ewes]
An' no to rin an' wear his cloots, [hoofs]
Like ither menseless graceless brutes. [unmannerly]
'An neist my yowie, silly thing, [next]
Gude keep thee frae a tether string!
O may thou ne'er forgather up [make friends]
Wi' ony blastit moorland tup;
But ay keep mind to moop an' mell, [nibble, meddle]
Wi' sheep o' credit like thysel!
'And now, my bairns, wi' my last breath
I lea'e my blessin' wi' you baith;
An' when you think upo' your mither,
Mind to be kind to ane anither.
'Now, honest Hughoc, dinna fail
To tell my master a' my tale;
An' bid him burn this cursed tether;
An', for thy pains, thou'se get my blether.' [bladder]

This said, poor Mailie turn'd her head,
An' closed her een amang the dead! [eyes]

POOR MAILIE'S ELEGY

Lament i