Violet Jacob

1863-1946 / Scotland

The Watter-Hen

As I gaed doon by the twa mill dams i' the mornin
The watter-hen cam oot like a passin wraith
An her voice cam throu the reeds wi a soond o warnin,
'Faith-keep faith!'
'Aye, bird, tho ye see but ane ye mey cry on baith!'
As I gaed doon the field when the dew was lyin,
My ain love stuid whaur the road an the milllade met,
An it seemed to me that the rowin wheel was cryin,
'Forgie-forget,
An turn, man, turn, for ye ken that ye loe her yet!'
As I gaed doon the road 'twas a weary meetin,
For the ill wirds said yestreen they were aye the same,
An my het hert drouned the wheel wi its heavy beatin.
'Lass, think shame,
It's no for me to speak, for it's you to blame!'
As I gaed doon by the toon when the day was springin
The Baltic brigs lay thick by the soundin quay
An the riggin hummed wi the sang that the wind was singin,
'Free-gang free,
For there's mony a load on shore mey be skailed at sea!'
* * * * * *

When I cam hame wi the thrang o the years 'ahint me
There was naucht to see for the weeds an the lade in spate,
But the watter-hen by the dams she seemed aye to mind me,
Cryin 'Hope-wait!'
'Aye, bird, but my een growe dim, an it's late-late!'
126 Total read