[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
LAte in an evening forth I went,
A little before the sun gade down,
And there I chanc’d by accident,
To light on a battle new begun.
A man and his wife was fawn in a strife,
I canna well tell ye how it began;
But ay she wail’d her wretched life,
And cry’d ever, alake me auld goodman.
–
HE.
Thy auld goodman that thou tells of,
The country kens where he was born,
Was but a silly poor vagabond,
And ilka ane leugh him to scorn;
For he did spend and make an end
Of gear that his fore-fathers wan,
He gart the poor stand frae the door,
Sae tell nae mair of thy auld goodman.
–
SHE.
My heart alake, is liken to break,
When I think on my winsome John,
His blinkan eye and gate sae free,
Was naithing like thee, thou dosend drone.
His rosie face and flaxen hair,
And a skin as white as ony swan,
Was large and tall, and comely withall,
And thou’lt never be like my auld goodman.
–
HE.
Why dost thou pleen? I thee maintain,
For meal and mawt thou disna want;
But thy wild bees I canna please,
Now when our gear gins to grow scant.
Of houshold-stuff thou hast enough,
Thou wants for neither pot nor pan;
Of sicklike ware he left thee bare,
Sae tell nae mair of thy auld goodman.
–
SHE.
Yes I may tell, and fret my sell,
To think on these blyth days I had,
When he and I together lay
In arms into a well made bed.
But now I sigh, and may be sad,
Thy courage is cauld, thy colour wan,
Thou falds thy feet, and fa’s asleep,
And thou’lt ne’er be like my auld goodman.
–
Then coming was the night sae dark,
And gane was a’ the light of day;
The carle was fear’d to miss his mark,
And therefore wad nae langer stay,
Then up he gat, and he ran his way,
I trow the wife the day she wan,
And ay the o’erword of the fray
Was ever, alake my auld goodman.
– Old Songs.
