Hap and Row

We'll hap and row, we'll hap and row,

We'll hap and row the feetie o't;

It is a wee bit weary thing:

I downa bide the greetie o't.

And we pat on the wee bit pan,

To boil the lick o' meatie o't;

A cinder fell and spoil'd the plan,

And burnt a' the feetie o't.

Fu' sair it grat, the puir wee brat,

And aye it kick'd the feetie o't,

Till, puir wee elf, it tired itself;

And then began the sleepie o't.

The skirling brat nae parritch gat,

When it gaed to the sleepie o't;

It's waesome true, instead o' 'ts mou'

They're round about the feetie o't.