The poem
I COFT a stane o’ haslock woo’, To mak a wab to Johnie o’t; For Johnie is my only jo, I loe him best of onie yet.
Chorus.—The cardin’ o’t, the spinnin’ o’t, The warpin’ o’t, the winnin’ o’t; When ilka ell cost me a groat, The tailor staw the lynin’ o’t.
For tho’ his locks be lyart grey, And tho’ his brow be beld aboon, Yet I hae seen him on a day, The pride of a’ the parishen. The cardin o’t, &c.