C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Lady Grisel Baillie (16651746)
Werena My Heart Licht
T
She biggit her bonnie bower down i’ yon glen:
But naw she cries Dool! and Well-a-day!
Come down the green gate, and come here away.
He said he saw naething sae lovely as me;
He hecht me baith rings and manie braw things,
And werena my heart licht I wad dee.
(I was taller and twice as bonnie as she;)
She raised sic a pother ’twixt him and his mother,
That werena my heart licht I wad dee.
The wife took a dwam and lay down to dee;
She mained and she graned wi’ fause dolor and pain,
Till he vowed he never wad see me again.
Said, Would he wed ane was landless like me?
Although I was bonnie, I wasna for Johnnie,
And werena my heart licht I wad dee.
Nor dribbles o’ drink coming through the draff,
Nor pickles o’ meal runnin’ frae the mill-e’e,—
And werena my heart licht I wad dee.
She spied me as I came ower the lea;
And then she ran in, and made a loud din;—
Believe your ain een an ye trow na me.
His old ane looked better than many ane’s new:
But now he lets ’t wear any gait it will hing,
And casts himsel’ dowie upon the com-bing.
And a’ he dow do is to hound the tykes:
The livelong nicht he ne’er steeks his e’e;
And werena my heart licht I wad dee.
We should hae been gallopin’ down on yon green,
And linkin’ it ower the lily-white lea:
And werena my heart licht I wad dee.