Читать книгу Heart Songs - Jean Blewett - Страница 17

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NOW Margot, dinna flout me,

O, dinna be unkind!

Mayhap to do without me,

A hardship you would find.

Ye haud yer head too high, lass,

Ye haud yer head too high,

What if I wad pass by, lass,

Instead o’ lingerin’ nigh?

Ye canna quite forget, dear,

The sunny days o’ yore,

They haud our twa lives yet, dear—

The days that are no more.

When in the warld sae wide, dear,

One lesson we could spell—

When it was a’ our pride, dear,

To love each other well.

When riches had na found ye—

My maid o’ tender face!

Before yer pride had bound ye,

An’ stolen a’ yer grace.

’Tis best that I should leave ye,

Cold are your eyes o’ blue,

’Twould be a sin to grieve ye,

A love sae warm an’ true.

Sae put yer hand within mine,

Forget—we can but try,

Here’s ane kiss for auld lang syne,

And here’s ane for good-bye.

What is it that you say, dear,

You will not let me go?

Then ye maun bid me stay, dear,

This much to me ye owe.

Twa foolish things were we, dear,

To dream that we could part,

The blind might almost see, dear,

Your image in my heart.

So haud me close and fast, dear,

With arms so soft an’ white,

A fig for quarrels past, dear,

You are my ain to-night.