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Poem by James Tytler
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The bonnie bruckit* lassie, She’s blue beneath the een: She was the fairest lassie That dansit on the green. A lad he lo’ed her dearly, She did his love return; But he his vows has broken, And left her for to mourn. ‘My shape,’ she says, ‘was handsome, My face was fair and clean; But now I’m bonnie bruckit, And blue beneath the ecn. My eyes were bright and sparkling Before that they turned blue; But now they‘re dull wi’ weeping, And a’ my love, for you. ‘My person it was comely; My shape, they said, was neat: But now I am quite changit, My stays they winna meet. A’ nicht I sleepit soundly; My mind was never sad; But now my rest is broken Wi’ thinking o’ my lad. ‘O could I live in darkness, Or hide me in the sea, Since my love is unfaithful, And has forsaken me! No other love I suffered Within my breast to dwell; In nought I have offended, But loving him too well! ‘Her lover heard her mourning, As by he chanced to pass; And pressed unto his bosom The lovely bruckit lass. ‘My dear,’ he said, ‘cease grieving; Since that ye lo’ed so true, My bonnie, bruckit lassie, I’ll faithfu’ prove to you.’ * bruckit, white-faced, pale.
James Tytler's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org