The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
Bonnie Beety.
“I was a weaver, young an' free,
Sae frank an' cheery aye to meet wi',
Until wi' ane unwary e'e
I view'd the charms o' bonnie Beety.
Lack-a-day!
Far away
Will I gae,
If I lose her.
Sae frank an' cheery aye to meet wi',
Until wi' ane unwary e'e
I view'd the charms o' bonnie Beety.
Lack-a-day!
Far away
Will I gae,
If I lose her.
I tauld her I had got a wound
Through sark an' waistcoat frae her sweet e'e;
She said it ne'er should do't again,
An' off like lightning flew my Beety.
Luckless day!
May I say,
When my way
Led to Beety.
Through sark an' waistcoat frae her sweet e'e;
She said it ne'er should do't again,
An' off like lightning flew my Beety.
Luckless day!
May I say,
When my way
Led to Beety.
Ae day she cam wi' hanks o' yarn,
When wi' my wark my face was sweaty;
She said I was a crieshy thief,
An' ne'er should get a kiss o' Beety.
O ho, ho, hon!
Now I'm gone,
Love has pro'en
A weaver's ruin.
When wi' my wark my face was sweaty;
She said I was a crieshy thief,
An' ne'er should get a kiss o' Beety.
276
Now I'm gone,
Love has pro'en
A weaver's ruin.
She laughs at me an' at my loom,
An' wi' the herd has made a treaty;
But wae light on his clouted shoon,
How durst he e'er attempt my Beety?
Oh how blind,
Eyes an' mind,
Womankind
Are to their profit!
An' wi' the herd has made a treaty;
But wae light on his clouted shoon,
How durst he e'er attempt my Beety?
Oh how blind,
Eyes an' mind,
Womankind
Are to their profit!
But by my shuttle now I swear,
An' by my beam, if Watie meet me,
I'll cut his throat frae ear to ear—
I'll lose my life or gain my Beety.
Blood an' guts!
Jades an' sluts!
I'll lose my wits,
If I lose Beety.”
An' by my beam, if Watie meet me,
I'll cut his throat frae ear to ear—
I'll lose my life or gain my Beety.
Blood an' guts!
Jades an' sluts!
I'll lose my wits,
If I lose Beety.”
Thus sang the weaver at his wark,
An' wi' pure grief was like to greet aye,
When Charlie brought a letter ben,
He thought he ken'd the hand o' Beety.
Happy day!
Did he say,
When my way
Led to Beety.
An' wi' pure grief was like to greet aye,
When Charlie brought a letter ben,
He thought he ken'd the hand o' Beety.
Happy day!
Did he say,
When my way
Led to Beety.
He read—“Dear sir, my wedding day
Is Friday neist, an' you maun meet me,
To wish me joy, an' drink my health,
An' dine wi' me—your servant, Beety.”
“O ho, ho, hon!
Now I'm gone,
Love has pro'en
A weaver's ruin.”
Is Friday neist, an' you maun meet me,
To wish me joy, an' drink my health,
An' dine wi' me—your servant, Beety.”
“O ho, ho, hon!
Now I'm gone,
Love has pro'en
A weaver's ruin.”
He raise, sat down, an' raise again—
Ask'd Charlie if the day was sleety;
Then through his head he popp'd the lead,
An' died a fool for love o' Beety.
The web is red,
Beety's wed,
Will is dead,
An' all is over.
Ask'd Charlie if the day was sleety;
Then through his head he popp'd the lead,
An' died a fool for love o' Beety.
The web is red,
Beety's wed,
Will is dead,
An' all is over.
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |