MALLY

Dean’t mind their awfish[3] skreekin’,

They ’tice folk to their death;

Then ride aboon yon billows

An’ gloor at them beneath.

They gloor at eenless corpses

Slow driftin’ wi’ the tide,

Deep doon amang the weedy wrack,

Wheer t’ scaly fishes glide.

Songs of the Ridings · 第 21 / 40 题