Skip to main content

‹‹‹ prev (21)

(23) next ›››

(22)
Jealousy
The new mune sma’ an’ slim,
The win’-blawn leaf on the pane;
I micht hae gotten sleep
But for they eerie twain.
For she wis like a leaf,
Blawn oot o’ the windy morn,
Wi’ her wan new mune o’ a face,
Amang the stookit corn.
Waes me ! I turned ma held
Frae her tear-begrutten e’en ;
Sae clear they were as the burn
Whaur it rins ower mosses green.
She s’uld hae hed the plaid,
Pit bye in the kist lang syne,
But for her yalla hair,
Her fit ower slicht and fine.
The wee reid hungerry mou’,
It s’uld hae hed bite and sup,
But I hae seen the bee
Ower aft at the rose’s cup.
My skin is broun as a toad,
E’en hae I shairp’s a shrew,
Ma hert is bleck an’ coorse,
Coorse thro’ an thro’.

Images and transcriptions on this page, including medium image downloads, may be used under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence unless otherwise stated. Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence