Гектор Макнилл (Hector Macneill)

Tak Tent and Be Wary

'Hech! lass, but ye're canty and vogie!
Wow! but your e'en look pauky and roguie!
What war ye doing, Kate, down in yon bogie,
    Up in the morning sae airy and grey?'
I've been wi' some body! what need ye to speer?
I've been wi' young Jamie! -- I've been wi' my dear!
-- God save me! my mither will miss me, I fear!
    D'ye ken, lass! he's courting me a' the lang day!'

'O Kate, tak tent and be wary!
Jamie's a sad aue -- he never will marry;
Think o' poor Tibby ;-- he's left her to carry
    Black burning shame till the day that she'll die!
'I carena for Tibby -- a glaiket young quean!
Her gaits wi' the fallows we a' ken lang syne!
The heart o' my laddie I never can tyne!
    He promis'd to marry me down on yon lea

O no! I need na be wary!--
Yes! yes! he means for to marry!
Wi' mony sweet kisses he ca'd me his deary,
    And swore he wad tak me afore Beltan day.'
'O Kate! Kate! he'll deceive ye!
(The de'il tak the chiel! he does naithing but grieve me!)
He's fu' o' deceit! -- gin ye like to believe me,
    The fause loon last night tald the same tale to me.'

'Dear Jean! but ye're unco camstary!
Ye'll ne'er let a bodie trou ever they'll mary!
Ye've now ge'en me something that's no light to carry,
    'Twill lie at my heart till the day that I die!'
She gaed awa sighing! she gaed away wae;
Her mither flet sair for her byding away!
She sat down to spin! -- ne'er a word could she say,
    But drew out a thread wi' the tear in her ee.

'O yes! -- it's time to be wary!
Jamie's a sad ane! -- he ne'er means to marry!--
He may rise in the morning, and wait till he's wearie!
    He's no see my face for this year and a day!

She raise wi' the lavroc, she milked her cow;
Sat down by her leglin and 'gan for to rue :--
Young Jamie cam by -- her heart lap to her mou!
    And she trou'd ilka word that the fause loon did say!
--Hech! sirs! how lasses will vary!
Sometimes they're doubtfu' -- 'tis then they are wary;
But when luve comes louping, they ay think we'll marry,
    And trust, like poor Kate, to what fause loons will say.

Поддержать сайт