Fields are sown with muckle corn,
And ruby roots, and dust of bread,
And tended by a buxom girl
With plaits wound round her golden head.

Her womb a dripping, ripened fruit,
Eaten by a sleeping babe,
A product of her fervent lust,
Seduced amongst the summer hay.

A flashing smile, and muscled thigh,
And hand gripped round her slimmer curves,
The smoke and ale upon his breath
commingle with her urgent love.