Ytte wes a mirke an dreiry cave,
Weet scroggis1 owr ytte creepe,
Gurgles withyn ye flowan wave
Throw channel braid an deip.
Never withyn that dreir recesse
Wes sene ye lyghte of daye,
Quhat bode azont2 yt’s mirkinesse3
Nane kend an nane mote saye.
Ye monarche rade owr brake an brae,
An drave ye yellynge packe,
Hiz meany4 au’, richte cadgily,5
Are wendynge6 yn hiz tracke.
Wi’ eager iye, wi’ yalpe an crye
Ye hondes yode7 down ye rocks:
Ahead of au’ their companye
Renneth ye panky8 foxe.
Ye foxe hes soughte that cave of awe,
Forewearied9 wi’ hiz rin,
Quha nou ys he sae bauld an braw10
To dare to enter yn?
Wi’ eager bounde hes ilka honde
Gane till that caverne dreir,
Fou11 many a yowl12 ys13 hearde around,
Fou11 many a screech of feir.
Like ane wi’ thirstie appetite
Quha swalloweth orange pulp,
Wes hearde a huggle an a bite,
A swallow an a gulp.
Ye kynge hes lap frae aff hiz steid,
Outbrayde14 hiz trenchant brande;
“Quha on my packe of hondes doth feed,
“Maun deye benead thilke hande.”
Sae sed, sae dune: ye stonderes15 hearde
Fou many a mickle16 stroke,
Sowns17 lyke ye flappynge of a birde,
A struggle an a choke.
Owte of ye cave scarce fette18 they ytte,
Wi pow19 an push an hau’20—
Whereof Y’ve drawne a little bytte,
Bot durst nat draw ytte au.21