Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride; But saving a croun he had naething else beside : He hadna been awa' a week but only twa, When my father brak his arm, and the cow was stown awa; My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the seaAnd auld Robin Gray came a-courtin' me. My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin ; I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win ; Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his e'e Said, Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me ! My heart it said nay; I look'd for Jamie back; wrack; His ship it was a wrack-why didna Jamie dee ? My father urgit sair: my mother didna speak; But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break: They gi'ed him my hand, but my heart was at the sea ; I hadna been a wife a week but only four, O sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ; I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin ; I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin; Lady A. Lindsay CXCIII DUNCAN GRAY Duncan Gray cam here to woo, On blythe Yule night when we were fou, Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd; Time and chance are but a tide, How it comes let doctors tell, And O, her een, they spak sic things! Duncan was a lad o' grace; Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath; Now they're crouse and canty baith: R. Burns 2 CXCIV THE SAILOR'S WIFE And are ye sure the news is true? Reach down my cloak, I'll to the quay, For there's nae luck about the house, There's little pleasure in the house And gie to me my bigonet, My bishop's satin gown; For I maun tell the baillie's wife Rise, lass, and mak a clean fireside, Gie little Kate her button gown And Jock his Sunday coat; And mak their shoon as black as slaes, Their hose as white as snaw; It's a' to please my ain gudeman, There's twa fat hens upo' the coop Mak haste and thraw their necks about, And spread the table neat and clean, Gar ilka thing look braw, For wha can tell how Colin fared When he was far awa? Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech. His breath like caller air; His very foot has music in't If Colin's weel, and weel content, And will I hear him speak? For there's nae luck about the house, There's little pleasure in the house When our gudeman's awa'. W. J. Mickle CXCV ABSENCE When I think on the happy days How slow ye move, ye heavy hours It was na sae ye glinted by Anon CXCVI JEAN Of a' the airts the wind can blaw For there the bonnie lassie lives, There wild woods grow, and rivers row, But day and night my fancy's flight I see her in the dewy flowers, I hear her in the tunefu' birds, There's not a bonnie flower that springs O blaw ye westlin winds, blaw saft What sighs and vows amang the knowes Hae pass'd atween us twa! How fond to meet, how wae to part That night she gaed awa! The Powers aboon can only ken That nane can be sae dear to me As my sweet lovely Jean! R. Burns |