Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver By William Thom. Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by W. Skinner |
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THEY SPEAK O' WYLES. |
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 | Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver |  |
35
THEY SPEAK O' WYLES.
They speak o' wyles in woman's smiles,
An' ruin in her e'e—
I ken they bring a pang at whiles
That's unco sair to dree;
But mind ye this, the half-taen kiss,
The first fond fa'in' tear,
Is, Heaven kens, fu' sweet amends
An' tints o' heaven here.
An' ruin in her e'e—
I ken they bring a pang at whiles
That's unco sair to dree;
But mind ye this, the half-taen kiss,
The first fond fa'in' tear,
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An' tints o' heaven here.
When twa leal hearts in fondness meet,
Life's tempests howl in vain—
The very tears o' love are sweet,
When paid with tears again.
Shall sapless prudence shake its pow,
Shall cauldrife caution fear?
Oh, dinna, dinna droun the lowe
That lichts a heaven here!
Life's tempests howl in vain—
The very tears o' love are sweet,
When paid with tears again.
Shall sapless prudence shake its pow,
Shall cauldrife caution fear?
Oh, dinna, dinna droun the lowe
That lichts a heaven here!
What tho' we're ca'd a wee before
The stale “three score an' ten;”
When “Joy” keeks kindly at your door,
Aye bid her welcome ben.
About yon blissfu' bowers above
Let doubtfu' mortals speir,
Sae weel ken we that “Heaven is love”
Since love makes heaven here.
The stale “three score an' ten;”
When “Joy” keeks kindly at your door,
Aye bid her welcome ben.
About yon blissfu' bowers above
Let doubtfu' mortals speir,
Sae weel ken we that “Heaven is love”
Since love makes heaven here.
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