Bonie Peg-a-Ramsay

Cauld is the e’enin blast,
O’Boreas o’er the pool,
An’dawin’ it is dreary,
When birks are bare at Yule.

Cauldblaws the e’enin blast,
When bitter bites the frost,
And, in the mirkand dreary drift,
The hills and glens are lost:

Ne’er saemurky blew the night
That drifted o’er the hill,
ButboniePeg-a-Ramsay
Gatgrist to her mill.