Alfred H. Miles, ed. Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.
By Songs. VI. It was on a MornJoanna Baillie (17621851)
I
The kirn it croon’d, the cheese was making,
And bannocks on the girdle baking,
When ane at the door chapp’t loud and lang.
Of a’ this bauld din took sma’ notice I ween;
For a chap at the door in braid day-light,
Is no like a chap that’s heard at e’en.
Wha waited without, half blate, half cheery,
And lang’d for a sight o’ his winsome deary,
Raised up the latch, and cam’ crousely ben.
His mittens and hose were cozie and bien;
But a wooer that comes in braid day-light,
Is no like a wooer that comes at e’en.
And his bare lyart pow, sae smoothly he straikit,
And he looket about, like a body half glaikit,
On bonny sweet Nanny, the youngest of a’.
Fy, let na’ sic fancies bewilder you clean:
An elderlin man, in the noon o’ the day,
Should be wiser than youngsters that come at e’en.”
You’ll no’ fash your head wi’ a youthfu’ gilly,
As wild and as skeigh as a muirland filly;
Black Madge is far better and fitter for you.”
And he squeezed the blue bannet his twa hands between,
For a wooer that comes when the sun’s i’ the south,
Is mair landward than wooers that come at e’en.
“She’s sober and eydent, has sense in her noddle:
She’s douce and respeckit.” “I care na’ a bodle:
Love winna be guided, and fancy’s free.”
And Nanny, loud laughing, ran out to the green;
For a wooer that comes when the sun shines bright
Is no like a wooer that comes at e’en.
“A’ the daughters of Eve, between Orkney and Tweed, O!
Black or fair, young or auld, dame or damsel or widow,
May gang in their pride to the de’il for me!”
Cared little for a’ his stour banning, I ween;
For a wooer that comes in braid day-light,
Is no like a wooer that comes at e’en.