Now there was an old man lived at Kellyburn braes
And he had a wife was he plague of his days.

The divil he came to the man at the plough,
Saying, "One of your family I must take now."

Said he, "My good man, I've come for your wife,
For I hear she's the plague and torment of your life,"

So the divil he hoisted her up on his back,
And landed at Hell's hall-door with a crack,

There were two little divils a playing with chains,
She upp'd with her stick, and knocked out their brains.

There were two other divils looked over the wall
They said,"Take her away or she'll murder us all."

So the divil he hoisted her up on his back,
And back to the old man hurried the pack.

They were seven years going and nine coming back,
Yet she asked for the scrapings she left in the pot.

Said he, "My good man, here's your wife back again,
For she wouldn't be kept, not even in Hell!

Now, I've been a divil the most of my life,
But I ne'er was in Hell till I met with your wife,"

So it's true that the women are worse than the men,
For they went down to Hell and were threw out again.