Classic Poem

O sairly may I rue the day
—I fancied first the womenkind;
For aye sinsyne I ne'er can ha'e
—Ae quiet thought or peace o' mind!
They ha'e plagued my heart, an' pleased my e'e,
—An' teased an' flattered me at will,
But aye, for a' their witchery,
—The pawky things! I lo'e them still.
——O, the women folk! O, the women folk,
———But they ha'e been the wreck o' me;
——O, weary fa' the women folk,
———For they winna let a body be!

I ha'e thought an' thought, but darena tell,
—I've studied them wi' a' my skill,
I've lo'ed them better than mysel',
—I've tried again to like them ill.
Wha sairest strives, will sairest rue,
—To comprehend what nae man can;
When he has done what man can do,
—He'll end at last where he began.

That they ha'e gentle forms an' meet,
—A man wi' half a look may see;
An' gracefu' airs, an' faces sweet,
—An' waving curls aboon the bree!
An' smiles as saft as the young rose-bud,
—An' e'ndash sae pawky, bright, an' rare,
Wad lure the laverock frae the clud—
—But, laddie, seek to ken nae mair!