A collection of ancient and modern Scottish ballads, etc

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Hire-women ay the glowmin hail.
For syne the lads came frae the flail.
Or else frae haddin the plough-tail/
That halesome wark
Disease about they dinna trail.
Like city spark.
They a' drive to the ingle cheek.
Regardless o' a flan o' reek.
And well their meikle fingers beek.
To gi'e them tune.
Syne sutors als'on nimbly streek.
To mend their shoon»
They pu' and rax the lingel tails.
Into their brogs they ca' the nails
Wi' hammers now, instead of flails.
They make great rackets^,
And set about their heels wi' rails
O' clinking tackets.
And ay till this misthriven age.
The gudeman here sat like a sage,
Wi' mill in hand, and wise adage
He spent the night ;
But now he sits in chamber cage,
A pridefu' wight.
The lasses wi' their unshod heels.
Are sittin at their spinning wheels.
And well ilk blythsome kemper dreels
And bows like wand?
The auld gudewife the pirny reels
Wi' tentv hand.
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