The Lad I' The Muin Poem by Violet Jacob

I

O GIN I lived i' the gowden muin
Like the mannie that smiles at me,
I'd sit a' nicht in my hoose abuin
An the wee-bit stars they wad ken me suin,
For I'd sup my brose wi a gowden spuin
An they wad come oot to see!
II

For weel I ken that the muin's his ain
An he is the maister there;
A' nicht he's lauchin, for, fegs, there's nane
To draw the blinnd on his windy-pane
An tak an bed him, to lie his lane
An pleasure himsel nae mair.
III

Says I to Grannie, ' Keek up the glen
Abuin by the rodden tree,
There's a braw lad 'yont i' the muin, ye ken.'
Says she, 'Awa wi ye, bairn, gang ben,
For noo it's little I fash wi men
An it's less that they fash wi me!'
IV

When I'm as big as the tinkler-man
That sings i' the loan a' day,
I'll bide wi him i' the tinkler-van
Wi a wee-bit pot an a wee-bit pan;
But I'll no tell Grannie my bonnie plan,
For I dinna ken what she'll say.
V

An, nicht by nicht, we will a' convene
An we'll be a cantie three;
We'll lauch an crack i' the loanin green,
The kindest billies that ever was seen,
The tinkler-man wi his twinklin een
An the lad i' the muin an me!