Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VIII. Wedded LoveTheres nae luck about the house
Jean Adam (17041765)A
And are ye sure he ’s weel?
Is this a time to think of wark?
Ye jauds, fling by your wheel.
Is this a time to think of wark,
When Colin ’s at the door?
Gie me my cloak! I ’ll to the quay
And see him come ashore.
There ’s nae luck ava;
There ’s little pleasure in the house,
When our gudeman’s awa’.
Put on the muckle pot;
Gi’e little Kate her cotton 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,
For he ’s been long awa’.
Been fed this month and mair;
Mak’ haste and thraw their necks about,
That Colin weel may fare;
And mak’ the table neat and clean,
Gar ilka thing look braw;
It ’s a’ for love of my gudeman,
For he ’s been long awa’.
My bishop satin gown,
For I maun tell the bailie’s wife
That Colin ’s come to town.
My Sunday’s shoon they maun gae on,
My hose o’ pearly blue;
’T is a’ to please my ain gudeman,
For he ’s baith leal and true.
His breath ’s like caller air!
His very foot has music in ’t,
As he comes up the stair.
And will I see his face again?
And will I hear him speak?
I ’m downright dizzy wi’ the thought,—
In troth, I ’m like to greet.
That thrillèd through my heart,
They ’re a’ blown by; I ha’e him safe,
Till death we ’ll never part:
But what puts parting in my head?
It may be far awa’;
The present moment is our ain,
The neist we never saw.
I ha’e nae more to crave,
Could I but live to mak’ him blest,
I ’m blest above the lave:
And will I see his face again?
And will I hear him speak?
I ’m downright dizzy wi’ the thought,—
In troth, I ’m like to greet.
There ’s nae luck ava;
There ’s little pleasure in the house,
When our gudeman ’s awa’.