Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle Edited by Alexander Rodger |
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SINCE FATE HAS DECREED IT. |
 | Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle |  |
170
SINCE FATE HAS DECREED IT.
Since fate has decreed it—then e'en let her gang,
I'll comfort mysel' wi' a canty bit sang:
Yes, I'll sing like a lintie, and laugh at it a',
Though the auld donnart dotard has wiled her awa'.
O wae worth that siller! what mischief it breeds,
Dame Fortune's pet weans, how it pampers and feeds;
It has made them baith ane whom auld Nature meant twa,
And has torn frae my arms, my dear lassie awa.
I'll comfort mysel' wi' a canty bit sang:
Yes, I'll sing like a lintie, and laugh at it a',
Though the auld donnart dotard has wiled her awa'.
O wae worth that siller! what mischief it breeds,
Dame Fortune's pet weans, how it pampers and feeds;
It has made them baith ane whom auld Nature meant twa,
And has torn frae my arms, my dear lassie awa.
The neighbours will clatter about the affair,
But e'en let them talk—that's the least o' my care,
For the sugh will blaw by in a fortnight or twa,
But ne'er can restore to me her that's awa.
Come cheer up, my heart!—yet, what need'st thou be wae?
There are thousands behint her, sae e'en let her gae;
Yes, thousands as bonnie, as good, and as braw—
Then why should'st thou grieve for her, now she's awa?
But e'en let them talk—that's the least o' my care,
For the sugh will blaw by in a fortnight or twa,
But ne'er can restore to me her that's awa.
Come cheer up, my heart!—yet, what need'st thou be wae?
There are thousands behint her, sae e'en let her gae;
Yes, thousands as bonnie, as good, and as braw—
Then why should'st thou grieve for her, now she's awa?
But ah! hapless lassie, my heart's wae for thee,
To think what a comfortless life thou maun dree;
How cheerless to sit in a rich splendid ha',
'Midst desolate grandeur, when love is awa'.
And thou, her auld mither, ah, what wilt thou say,
When thou seest thy poor lassie heart-broken and wae?
Ah, what will avail then her cleeding sae braw,
When it covers a bosom that's riven in twa.
To think what a comfortless life thou maun dree;
How cheerless to sit in a rich splendid ha',
'Midst desolate grandeur, when love is awa'.
And thou, her auld mither, ah, what wilt thou say,
When thou seest thy poor lassie heart-broken and wae?
Ah, what will avail then her cleeding sae braw,
When it covers a bosom that's riven in twa.
| Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle | |