Sir Marmaduke Maxwell, A Dramatic Poem The Maid of Galloway; The Legend of Richard Faulder; and Twenty Scottish Songs: By Allan Cunningham |
 |
|
| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| III. |
| I. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| IV. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| V. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
|
THE WANTON WIFE. |
 | Sir Marmaduke Maxwell, A Dramatic Poem |  |
179
THE WANTON WIFE.
1
Nith, trembling to the reapers' song,Warm glimmer'd in the morning sun,
And murmur'd up the greenwood glen,
Where Kate the wanton cummer wonne.
Her tongue aye wagg'd wi' graceless wit,
Stay'd by nor kirk nor gospel ban;
And aye she wish'd the kirk-yard mools
Were green aboon her auld goodman.
2
Her auld goodman dropt in at e'en,Wi' harvest-hook sore toil'd was he;
Sma' was his cog, and cauld his kale,
Yet anger never raised his ee.
He blest the little, and was blythe,—
While Kate wi' clamorous tongue began;
Now sorrow clap thy auld bald pow,
And dance w'ye to the mools, goodman.
3
He look'd at her, but did nae speak,And down he lay in dool and pine;
While she sat singing in the nook,
And touting at the rosy wine.
The lark amid the morning grey,
That wont to cheer him workward gaun,
Next morning miss'd among the dew
The blythe and dainty auld goodman.
180
4
The third morn-dew on bank and tree'Gan in the rising sun to glow,
When sung the wanton wife to see
His feet gaun foremost o'er the knowe.
The first flight of the winter rime,
That on the kirk-yard sward had faun,
She skift it from his lowly grave,
A-kirking wi' her new goodman.
5
A dainty dame I wot she was;Baith brent and burnish'd was her brow
'Mang curling love-locks, and her lips
Were daisies born 'mang may-day dew;
And lightsome was she in the dance,
When ha' was het, or kirn was wan;
Her hands seem'd drifts of virgin snow,
In cauld December's bosom faun.
6
But long ere winter's winds flew by,She skirled in her lonesome howe;
Her husband wi' a hazel rung
Began to kame her wanton powe.
Her hearth was quench'd with woe and care,
Toom grew her chest, and cauld her pan
And driegh and dowie wax'd the night,
Ere beltane, with her new goodman.
181
7
She dreary sits 'tween naked wa's,Her cheeks ne'er dimpling into mirth,
Half happit, haurling out of doors,
And hunger-haunted at her hearth.
Her faded eyes are full of tears,
Her voice is changed, her cheek is wan;
And loud and bitter are her sobs,
When she thinks on her auld goodman.
| Sir Marmaduke Maxwell, A Dramatic Poem | |