Bonnie Joann, and other poems

(Yestere’n was Hallowe’en,
To-day is Hallow-day,
It’s nine free nichts to Martinmas,
And then we’ll get away.

Old Song among Angus Farm Servants.)

Frae Hallowe’en to Martinmas
There’s little time to fill,
And yet there’s mony a warkin’ lass
Thinks a’ the days stand still.

Oh, cauld the mornin’ creeps on nicht
Alang the eerie skies,
An’ cauld the blink o’ caun’le-licht
That lets me see to rise.

For late an’ airly at the fairm
The wark seems niver past,
But a week, come Monday, brings the tairm
When I may flit at last.

My mither hauds her docters ticht,
My mither’s hoose is sma’,
An’ I niver lo’ed my mither richt
Until I gaed awa.

But yestere’en was Hallowe’en
When a’ may dance an’ sing;
The auld guidwife shut doon her e’en,
The young anes got their fling;

Set up, the fiddler wrocht. Below,
The reel swang ilka ane,
But my feet danced oot to meet my joe
By the licht o’ Charlewayn.

My mither’s hame’s a happy hame
Whaur easy I may lie,
And o’ mysel’ I’m thinkin’ shame,
Sic a feckless queyn am I.

For, by the licht o’ Charlewayn,
It’s Rab that gar’d me lairn
To see a lover’s lass mair plain
E’en than a mither’s bairn.

Aye, yestere’en was Hallowe’en,
An’ Martinmas is near;
It’s wae for Martinmas I’ve been
But it’s like to find me here!