SHE wis never that young, she wis never just that bonny, An' it's nae the bawbees, for she's no had ony This seventeen year, Yet it's oh but I'm sweir Tae pairt frae ma jo Annie Powrie; She's fair past wurk,—though she's but fufty-three, An' they've taen her till the infirmarie, An' wha's tae rax me ma dish o' tea, When she's awa' frae Gowrie? I've pawned her puckle gear, an' I've drinkt her bit beddin', An' the auld black goun that she wore tae wir weddin', An' her stuffit chair, Still it's eh but I'm sair Tae twine frae ma jo Annie Powrie; The doctor says that she's gey far through, But wha's tae dig the croft i' the noo, An' wha's tae bed me the nichts I'm fou, When she's awa' frae Gowrie? She was wattit tae the bane at the tattie-sawin' I' the spring o' the year when the win' wis blawin' O'a cauld-rife airt, An' it's wae is ma hairt Tae twine frae ma jo Annie Powrie; They're tellin' aye that she's like tae dee, Nae an unco' thing as ye'll agree, But wha's tae fend for the pig an' me, Gin she's awa' frae Gowrie? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEORGE LEVISON OR, THE SCHOOLFELLOWS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM DELIVERANCE by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS INVITATION TO PETERHEAD by JAMES HAY BEATTIE ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE FROM O-- by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT PARADOX by MAGDELEN EDEN BOYLE |