“Vitas hinnuleo me similis, Chloë!” – CAR. I., 23.
WHA’S aucht this bonnie bashfu’ bairn
Cooerin’ her lane ahint the cairn?
Whas’ can the lassie be?
Or is’t a fairy fra the fern
Looks wonderin’ oot on me?
–
Tell me, thou timorous mountain fay,
If that thy name an’ lineage may
By mortal mooth be speir’d!
The fient a wird she has to say –
The lassie’s dumb, or fear’d!
–
That heavin’ breist, that startin’ tear,
That glance as o’ a huntit deer,
That gentle hazel ee
Frozen sae wide – it maun be fear!
But never fear o’ me?
–
O’ me wham every collie kens?
Wha’s grozer-busses mak’ amen’s
For scarcity o’ crap
By chirpin’ sprogs, an’ cheerfu’ weans
That kink me at the slap?
–
My silly sheep are weel aware
Their comfort is my only care,
An’ follow whaur I lead,
Sure o’ a warmer-tempered air
An’ greener place to feed.
–
Nor beast nor body, big nor wee,
Ever afore mistrustit me,
That ever yet cam’ near me;
What is’t aboot me startles thee,
An’ gars thee seem to fear me?
–
Is it that thy owre-carefu’ granny
Had telt thee men-folk arena canny –
Their very friendship fraud?
I’d hae thee think, my sweet young Nanny,
We’re no sae ill’s we’re ca’d!
–
Wimmen are angels, I alloo –
But angels’ brithers canna boo
To be set doun as feends!
Think better o’ breek folk! – an’ noo
Come oot, an’ lat’s be friends!
