@3Sawney@1 was tall and of Noble Race, And lov'd me better than any eane; But now he ligs by another Lass, And @3Sawney@1 will ne'er be my love agen: I gave him fine @3Scotch@1 Sarke and Band, I put 'em on with mine own hand; I gave him House, and I gave him Land, Yet @3Sawney@1 will ne'er be my Love agen. I robb'd the Groves of all their store, And nosegays made to give @3Sawney@1 one; He kiss'd my Breast and feign would do more, Geud feth me thought he was a bonny one: He squeez'd my fingers, grasp'd my knee, And carv'd my Name on each green Tree, And sigh'd and languish'd to lig by me, Yet now he wo'not be my Love agen. My Bongrace and my Sun-burnt-face, He prais'd, and also my Russet Gown; But now he doats on the Copper Lace, Of some leud Quean of @3London@1 Town: He gangs and gives her Curds and Cream, Whilst I poor Soul sit sighing at heam, And near joy @3Sawney@1 unless in a Dream, For now he ne'er will be my Love again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DR. SCUDDER'S CLINICAL LECTURE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS REMEMBERED MUSIC; A FRAGMENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE MYSTIC by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY WHITE SPIRITUAL by WILLIAM BERRY PSALM 116 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |