Classic Poem

Come in, gude wife, an' sit ye down,
An' let the wark alane:
I'm thinking now o' youthfu' days
An' times that lang ha'e gane;
An' o' the monie ups an' downs
In life that we ha'e seen,
Since first beneath the trystin' tree
I clasp'd my bonnie Jean.

How sweetly holy was the hour
When first in love me met!
When first your breast was pressed to mine—
That hour can I forget?
Wi' blessed love our hearts were fu'
Beneath the hawthorn green:
'Twas then our happiness began,
My ain—my bonnie Jean.

Sweet shone the moon aboon our heads
When aff ye gaed wi' me,
And left your father in his sleep
To wake and seek for thee—
Your mither left to flight an ban
Frae mornin' until e'en,
'Cause he whose poverty she scorn'd
Was aff wi' bonnie Jean.

Our marriage-day was bright and clear—
Our marriage-day was fair:
For diamonds ye did daisies twine
Amang your glossy hair.
I wealthless was at openin' morn;
But at the closin' e'en
I had what mailins could not buy—
My ain—my bonnie Jean!

An' Jean, our proud friends scorn'd us sair,
And coost their heads fu' hie—
They couldna ken twa bodies puir,
Like senseless thee and me:
But we had wealth—our hands were good;
And wealth to us they've been;
And love was sunshine over a',
My ain—my bonnie Jean!

And mind ye, Jean, when we began
To gather flocks and gear,
How friends grew up in ilka neuk,
And came baith far and near?—
How we began to gather sense,
And wise folk grew, I ween,
As aye our wealth grew mair an' mair,
My ain, my bonnie Jean?

And now around us flourish fair,
Baith sons and dochters too:
You're happy in your bairns, gudewife,
And happy I'm in you;
And though your head be growin' gray,
And dimmer be your een
Than in our days of blithesome youth,
You're aye my bonnie Jean.