The Poetry of Robert Burns Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson |
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| III. |
THE HIGHLAND WIDOW'S LAMENT |
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 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
184
THE HIGHLAND WIDOW'S LAMENT
I
O, I am come to the low countrie—Ochon, ochon, ochrie!—
Without a penny in my purse
To buy a meal to me.
II
It was na sae in the Highland hills—Ochon, ochon, ochrie!—
Nae woman in the country wide
Sae happy was as me.
III
For then I had a score o' kye—Ochon, ochon, ochrie!—
Feeding on yon hill sae high
And giving milk to me.
IV
And there I had three score o' yowes—Ochon, ochon, ochrie!—
Skipping on yon bonie knowes
And casting woo' to me.
V
I was the happiest of a' the clan—Sair, sair may I repine!—
For Donald was the brawest man,
And Donald he was mine.
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VI
Till Charlie Stewart cam at lastSae far to set us free:
My Donald's arm was wanted then
For Scotland and for me.
VII
Their waefu' fate what need I tell?Right to the wrang did yield:
My Donald and his country fell
Upon Culloden field.
VIII
Ochon! O Donald, O!Ochon, ochon, ochrie!
Nae woman in the warld wide
Sae wretched now as me!
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |