J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921.
By Isobel Pagan (17411821)Ca the Yowes
C
Ca’ them whare the heather grows,
Ca’ them whare the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.
There I met my shepherd lad,
He rowed me sweetly in his plaid,
And he ca’d me his dearie.
And see the waves sae sweetly glide
Beneath the hazels spreading wide,
The moon it shines fu’ clearly.’
My shepherd lad, to play the fool;
And a’ the day to sit in dool,
And naebody to see me.
Cauf-leather shoon upon your feet,
And in my arms ye’se lie and sleep,
And ye sall be my dearie.’
I’se gang wi’ you, my shepherd lad;
And ye may row me in your plaid,
And I sall be your dearie.’
While day blinks in the lift sae hie;
Till clay-cauld death sall blin’ my e’e
Ye aye shall be my dearie.’