I lift't the harnesh fae ahint the oul doar, whur it haes hug fae iver I mine, The cullar an' hames maybe ouler than me, an' a bit o' a ravell't oul' rein, An' oul' bridle an' straps that sa' monies a crap, an' an oul snaffle that shines lak' a shillin', I hae cover't some grun, but mae best deys be's done, I'm wake but mae spirit is willin', But I coont that nae shame, the oul mere's joost the same, an her oul joints be's startin tae go, 'but we're twa o' kine, we can read ithers mine, aw! I'll admit ye micht notice is' slow. Awa doon the bak' rodden an' it naw yit clear, in the quateness a jinglin'chain, A wee burd joins tae sing, for tae welcome the spring, man, it's nice tae be oot here yer lane, Ye wad think moather earth wus joost wakenin up', efter hir lang wunter sleep, An' at the rut o' the dake somethin else is awake, for the snowdraps be's joinin' tae peep. She stans near the slap an', I tigh'en the straps an' I yok tae the ploo yince again, The grass is still froze, she blows steam fae hir nose, man, it's nice tae be oot here yer lane, The rid earth turns o'er as wee lift the furst fur' an' the sun hunts the mist fae the lan', The grey ghosts dissappear, an' its noo gyely clear, on the headrig a minit we stan. An' I luk an' I think, sure lifes only a blink, an' mae three score an' ten's comin' shane, But if ony mare's lent, it's oot here that I'll spen't, man, it's nice tae be oot here yer lane', I hae nae notion tae quit, for I'm naw joost dane yit, I can still ploo an acre a day, An' I'm as hearty's a wean, but for these dam't oul pains, man, I lake tae be oot here mae lane. I can weel mine the sale whun I first struck the dale, an' the boy sez ye'll niver regret, I pye't richt an' dear for a three year oul mere' but she's walkin in front o' me yet, At thirteen I wus hir't, it's gyely time I retir't sixty years hae's flew by far ower shane, But whut wud I dae for tae pit in mae day, damn't I wud miss bein oot here mae lane.