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] |
The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | ||
The Women Fo'k.
Oh sairly may I rue the day
I fancied first the womankind;
For aye sinsyne I ne'er can hae
Ae quiet thought or peace o' mind!
They hae plagued my heart an' pleased my e'e,
An' teased an' flatter'd me at will,
But aye for a' their witchery,
The pawky things I lo'e them still.
Oh the women fo'k! Oh, the women fo'k!
But they hae been the wreck o' me;
Oh weary fa' the women fo'k,
For they winna let a body be!
I fancied first the womankind;
For aye sinsyne I ne'er can hae
Ae quiet thought or peace o' mind!
They hae plagued my heart an' pleased my e'e,
An' teased an' flatter'd me at will,
But aye for a' their witchery,
The pawky things I lo'e them still.
Oh the women fo'k! Oh, the women fo'k!
But they hae been the wreck o' me;
Oh weary fa' the women fo'k,
For they winna let a body be!
I hae thought an' thought, but darena tell,
I've studied them wi' a' my skill,
I've lo'ed them better than mysell,
I've tried again to like them ill.
Wha sairest strives, will sairest rue,
To comprehend what nae man can;
When he has done what man can do,
He'll end at last where he began.
Oh, the women fo'k, &c.
I've studied them wi' a' my skill,
I've lo'ed them better than mysell,
I've tried again to like them ill.
Wha sairest strives, will sairest rue,
To comprehend what nae man can;
When he has done what man can do,
He'll end at last where he began.
Oh, the women fo'k, &c.
That they hae gentle forms and meet,
A man wi' half a look may see;
An' gracefu' airs, and faces sweet,
An' waving curls aboon the bree;
An' smiles as soft as the young rose-bud;
An' een sae pawky, bright, an' rare,
Wad lure the laverock frae the cludd—
But, laddie, seek to ken nae mair!
Oh, the women fo'k, &c.
A man wi' half a look may see;
An' gracefu' airs, and faces sweet,
An' waving curls aboon the bree;
An' smiles as soft as the young rose-bud;
An' een sae pawky, bright, an' rare,
Wad lure the laverock frae the cludd—
But, laddie, seek to ken nae mair!
Oh, the women fo'k, &c.
Even but this night nae farther gane,
The date is neither lost nor lang;
I tak ye witness ilka ane,
How fell they fought an' fairly dang.
Their point they've carried right or wrang,
Without a reason, rhyme, or law,
An' forced a man to sing a sang,
That ne'er could sing a verse ava.
Oh the women fo'k! Oh the women fo'k!
But they hae been the wreck o' me;
Oh weary fa' the women fo'k,
For they winna let a body be!
The date is neither lost nor lang;
I tak ye witness ilka ane,
How fell they fought an' fairly dang.
Their point they've carried right or wrang,
Without a reason, rhyme, or law,
An' forced a man to sing a sang,
That ne'er could sing a verse ava.
Oh the women fo'k! Oh the women fo'k!
But they hae been the wreck o' me;
Oh weary fa' the women fo'k,
For they winna let a body be!
The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | ||