 | Poems and Songs |  |
171
Eh, Dear, what a Bother!
I
Eh, dear, what a bother;My faither an' mother
Are makin' me tired o' my life!
Jem wants me to marry;
They say'n we mun tarry
A while, till I'm fit for a wife.
II
My lad's brave an' bonny;He's mine, if I've ony;
He's loved me an' courted me long.
He're seventeen last Monday;
I'm sixteen o' Sunday;
An' yet they both think us too young.
172
III
Said my faither, when JamieAxed if he might ha' me,
“My lad, it's too soon to get wed!
Thou's no yure o' thi chin, mon;
Thi wages are thin, an'
Thou's never a roof for thi yed.
IV
“Thou's no housin' nor beddin';Thou's nought saved for weddin'—
I don't think thou's price of a sark!
If thou waits till hoo's twenty,
It's soon enough, plenty;
So go thi ways back to thi wark!”
V
But oh, as time passes,These dainty young lasses
May wile my lad's fancy fro' me;
For there's witchery in him,
An' if they should win him,
I think i' my heart I should dee!
173
VI
Oh, Jamie, my darlin';My darlin', my darlin';
How happy thy kind wife I'd be!
To wander together,
Through life's hardest weather,
How gladly I'd struggle for thee!
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