Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Authors Only Pet Yowe., The
#039; mell,
wi' sheep o' credit like thysel'!
“and now, my bairns, wi' my st breath,
i lea'e my blessin wi' you baith:
an' when you think upo' your mither,
mind to be kind to ane anither.
“now, ho 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 bther.”
this said, poor mailie turn'd her head,
and clos'd her een amang the dead!