The Poetry of Robert Burns Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson |
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A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER
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| III. |
| IV. |
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 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER
THE FIRST INSTANCE THAT ENTITLED HIM TO THE VENERABLE APPELLATION OF FATHER
I
Thou's welcome, wean! Mishanter fa' me,If thoughts o' thee or yet thy mammie
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
My sweet, wee lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me
Tyta or daddie!
II
What tho' they ca' me fornicator,An' tease my name in kintra clatter?
The mair they talk, I'm kend the better;
E'en let them clash!
An auld wife's tongue's a feckless matter
To gie ane fash.
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III
Welcome, my bonie, sweet, wee dochter!Tho' ye come here a wee unsought for,
And tho' your comin I hae fought for
Baith kirk and queir;
Yet, by my faith, ye're no unwrought for—
That I shall swear!
IV
Sweet fruit o' monie a merry dint,My funny toil is no a' tint:
Tho' thou cam to the warl' asklent,
Which fools may scoff at,
In my last plack thy part's be in't
The better half o't.
V
Tho' I should be the waur bestead,Thou's be as braw and bienly clad,
And thy young years as nicely bred
Wi' education,
As onie brat o' wedlock's bed
In a' thy station.
VI
Wee image o' my bonie Betty,As fatherly I kiss and daut thee,
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Wi' as guid will,
As a' the priests had seen me get thee
That's out o' Hell.
VII
Gude grant that thou may ay inheritThy mither's looks an' gracefu' merit,
An' thy poor, worthless daddie's spirit
Without his failins!
'Twill please me mair to see thee heir it
Than stocket mailins.
VIII
And if thou be what I wad hae thee,An' tak the counsel I shall gie thee,
I'll never rue my trouble wi' thee—
The cost nor shame o't—
But be a loving father to thee,
And brag the name o't.
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |