Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SHAWLIE, by GEORGE FRANCIS SAVAGE-ARMSTRONG


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THE SHAWLIE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Drive, bitter blast, frae lough tae sea
Last Line: A feel my luv's wee shawlie!


Drive, bitter blast, frae lough tae sea
A little min' yer smertin';
Her ain wee shawlie's roon' my heart
Her wee han's pinn'd at partin'
A'm proof the-night 'gen' win' an' snaw,
A'll walk frae here tae Derry--
Though Noe's flood yince mair cam' doon
A'd face it bowld an' merry.

"Noo, Charlie, dearie, ben' ye doon;
Ye jist maun tak' my shawlie'
A'll wrap it tight aroon' yer kist,
For och, the night's sae squally,
Puir lad, ye'll fin' it unco' cau'd
By Gransha shore," says Kitty;
An' then her een luik'd up in mine
Wi' ah, sich luve an' pity.

Wee shawlie, pressin' saft an' werm
Aroon' my breast aglowin',
A kiss yer fringe, A hug ye fast,
A mock the squalls a-blowin';
Let thun'ers roar, let lightnin's glame,
A'll face the tempest brawly,
Whilst close agen' my thrabbin' heart
A feel my Luv's wee shawlie!





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