Wednesday, 28 June 2017

The Lonesome Scot

Ne'er they laired me hou tae kiss,
And ne'er they laired me hou tae coort.
Nae I gainder in the mist
Unkennins as tae hou tae do it.

They laired me hou tae spell and coont,
And all the kintras in the warld.
But it ails me that I leared not hou
Tae woo a lass with golden curls.

I see the wey they keek at me,
The lasses blithe and canny:
Whate'er it is a man should hae,
They deem I hae not anny.

And it's becase the lame-legged wey
I habble to approach them,
And hou I ganch and stammer then
To try to get words spoken.

What guid to me are all the beuks,
And all the problems solven,
While I gang forth all on my ain,
A lonely furrow ploddin'?

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