 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
155
SONG
Air, “Loch Doine”
Ye say, ye dinna love me now—
'Tis weel; but ye maun gie to me
The gowden ring ye're finger wears;
I winna waste sic things on ye—
An' tak' those ear-rings frae ye're ears,
Ye ken they cost me muckle gowd;
An' tak' that chain frae off ye're neck,
For it has made ye a' too proud—
An' I'd nae gie a pint o' wine
To hae ye say ye wad be mine.
'Tis weel; but ye maun gie to me
The gowden ring ye're finger wears;
I winna waste sic things on ye—
An' tak' those ear-rings frae ye're ears,
Ye ken they cost me muckle gowd;
An' tak' that chain frae off ye're neck,
For it has made ye a' too proud—
An' I'd nae gie a pint o' wine
To hae ye say ye wad be mine.
I ken there's mair in this wide world,
An' trust me, I'll nae greet for ane;
I'll further gae, an' better fare,
An' ye, proud lass, maun live alane!
Then gie me back my ring again;
I winna waste its worth on ye—
My jewels breet—my gowden chain—
The de'il may hae ye then for me;
For I'd nae gie a pint o' wine
To hae ye say ye wad be mine.
An' trust me, I'll nae greet for ane;
I'll further gae, an' better fare,
An' ye, proud lass, maun live alane!
Then gie me back my ring again;
I winna waste its worth on ye—
My jewels breet—my gowden chain—
The de'il may hae ye then for me;
For I'd nae gie a pint o' wine
To hae ye say ye wad be mine.
Haverhill Gazette, September 22, 1827.
| [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet | |