The Dawtie Poem by Robert Anderson

The Dawtie



JENNY.
``Tho' weel I leyke ye, Jwohnny lad,
I cannot, munnet marry yet!
My peer auld mudder's unco bad,
Sae we a wheyle mun tarry yet;
For ease or comfort she has neane--
Leyfe's just a lang, lang neet o' pain;
I munnet leave her aw her leane,
And wunnet, wunnet marry yet!''

JWOHNNY.
``O Jenny! dunnet brek this heart,
And say, we munnet marry yet;
Thou cannot act a jillet's part--
Why sud we tarry, tarry yet?
Think, lass, of aw the pains I feel;
I've leyk'd thee lang, nin kens how weel!
For thee, I'd feace the varra de'il--
O say not, we mun tarry yet!''

JENNY.
``A weddet leyfe's oft dearly bowt;
I cannot, munnet marry yet:
Ye ha'e but little--I ha'e nought,
Sae, we a wheyle mun tarry yet!
My heart's yer awn, ye needna fear,
But let us wait anudder year,
And luive, and toil, and screape up gear--
We munnet, munnet marry yet!
'Twas but yestreen, my mudder said,
``O, dawtie! dunnet marry yet!
I'll suin lig i' my last cauld bed;
Tou's aw my comfort--tarry yet.''
Whene'er I steal out o' her seet,
She seeghs, and sobs, and nought gangs reet--
Whist!--that's her feeble voice;--Guid neet!
We munnet, munnet marry yet!''

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