From an Old Song, “Woo’d and Married and a’”
THE BRIDE she is winsome and bonny,
Her hair it is snooded sae sleek,
And faithfu’ and kind is her Johnny,
Yet fast fa’ the tears on her cheek.
New pearlins 1 are cause of her sorrow,
New pearlins and plenishing too;
The bride that has a’ to borrow
Has e’en right mickle ado....
Up! quit thy bower! late wears the hour,
Long have the rooks cawed round the tower;
O’er flower and tree loud hums the bee,
And the wild kid sports merrily.
The sun is bright, the sky is clear;
Wake, lady, wake! and hasten here.
Up, maiden fair! and bind thy hair,
And rouse thee in the breezy air!
The lulling stream that soothed...
Good morrow to thy sable beak
And glossy plumage dark and sleek,
Thy crimson moon and azure eye,
Cock of the heath, so wildly shy:
I see thee slyly cowering through
That wiry web of silvery dew,
That twinkles in the morning air,
Like casements of my lady fair.
A maid there is in yonder tower,
Who, peeping from her early...
