Classic Poem

The trees are a' ivied, the leaves they are green
And past are the mony times that I hae seen;
In the lang winter's nicht it's I maun lie mylane,
For my bonnie laddie's lang, lang a-grouwin'.

O faither, dear faither, ye've duin me muckle wrang,
For ye hae mairried me on a lad that's owre young;
He is but twelve, and I'm thirteen,
And the bonnie laddie's lang, lang a-grouwin'.

O dochter, dear dochter, I've duin ye nae wrang,
For I hae mairried ye on a noble lord's son:
And he shall be the lord, and ye will wait on,
And a' the time your lad'll be a-grouwin'.

O faither, dear faither, and if ye see fit,
We'll send him tae the schuil a year or twa yit;
And we'll set a lang ribbon roond aboot his bannet,
And that'll be a token that he's mairried.

O faither, dear faither, and if it pleases ye,
I'll tie my lang hair abuin my bree,
And this coat and breeks I'll glaidly pit on,
And I tae the schuil will gang wi him.

In his twelfth year, he was a mairried man,
In his thirteenth, he had gotten her a son;
But in his fourteenth, his grave it grew green,
And that pit an end tae his grouwin'.