Classic Poem

‘Hech! lass, but ye're canty and vogie;
Wow! but your een look pauky and roguie;
What war ye doing, Kate, down in yon bogie,
 Up in the morning sae airy and grey?’
‘I've been wi' somebody! —what need ye to speer;
I've been wi' young Jamie!—I've been wi' my dear!
—God save me! my mither will miss me, I fear!—
 D'ye ken, lass! he's courting me a' the lang day!

‘O Kate, tak tent, and be wary!
Jamie's a sad ane!—he never will marry;
Think o' poor Tibby;—he's left her to carry
 Blackburning shame till the day that she'll die!’
‘I carena for Tibby—a glaiket young quean;
Her gaits wi' the fallows we a' ken lang syne;—
The heart o' my laddie I never can tyne:
 He promised to marry me down on yon lea.

‘O no! I need na be wary:—
Yes! yes! he means for to marry:
Wi' mony sweet kisses he ca'd me his dearie,
 And swore he wad tak me before Beltan day.’
‘O Kate! Kate! he'll deceive ye!
(The diel tak the chiel! he does naithing but grieve me!)
He's fou o' deceit!—gin ye like to believe me,
 The fause loon last night tald the same tale to me.’

‘Dear Jean! but ye're unco camstary;
Ye'll ne'er let a bodie trou ever they'll marry!—
Ye've now gi'en me something that's no light to carry,
 'Twill lie at my heart till the day that I die!’
She gaed awa sighing; she gaed awa wae;
Her mither flet sair for her byding away!
She sat down to spin!—ne'er a word could she say,
 But drew out a thread wi' the tear in her ee.

‘O yes!—it's time to be wary!
Jamie's a sad ane!—he ne'er means to marry!
He may rise in the morning, and wait till he's wearie!
 He's no see my face for this year and a day!
She raise wi' the lavroc; she milked her cow;
Sat down by her leglin, and 'gan for to rue;—
Young Jamie cam by—her heart lap to her mou!
 And she trou'd ilka word that the fause loon did say!
 Hech! sirs! how lasses will vary!
Sometimes they are doubtfu'—'tis then they are wary;
But whan love comes louping, they aye think we'll marry,
 And trust, like poor Kate, to what fause loons will say.