42 Lïzbeth caad oot wi a gled cry tae Mary, “Amang aa weemen ye'r blisst bi God, an blisst be tha wean ye'r fer haein!
Tha angel saed til hir, “Fair faa ye, blisst amang weemen, tha Loard ïs wi ye.”
Whaniver Lïzbeth heerd tha soon o Mary's voice, tha bairn gien a lep ïn hir wame, an she wus fu o tha Halie Spïrit.
But hoo cum ït's me haes bin gien sae bïg an honour, wi tha mither o ma Loard cumin tae vïsit me?
Fer he haes tuk notysh o me, a puir sarvin lass, an aa genèrations frae noo on wull caa me blisst.
“Blisst ïs tha Kïng that cums ïn tha name o tha Loard. Peace ïn heiven abain, an glorie ïn tha heichest!”