Explore "Songs of Angus: REJECTED" by Violet Jacob on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I'm fairly disjaskit, Christina, / The warld an' its glories are toom; / I'm laid like a stane whaur ye left me, / To greet wi' my heid i' the broom.
A' day has the lav'rock been singin' / Up yont, far awa' i' the blue, / I thocht that his sang was sae bonnie, / Bit it disna' seem bonnie the noo!
A' day has the cushie been courtin' / His joe i' the boughs o' the ash, / But gin Love was wheeped frae the pairish, / It isn't mysel' that wad fash!
For losh! what a wark I've had wi' ye! / At mairkit, at kirk, an' at fair, / I've ne'er let anither lad near ye -- / An' what can a lassie need mair?
An' oh! but I've socht ye an' watched ye, / Whauriver yer fitsteps was set, / Gin ye had but yer neb i' the gairden / I was aye glowerin' in at the yett!
Ye'll mind when ye sat at the windy, / Dressed oot in yer fine Sawbath black, / Richt brawly I kent that ye saw me, / But ye just slippit oot at the back.
Christina, 'twas shamefu' -- aye was it! / Affrontin' a man like mysel', / I'm thinkin' ye're daft, for what ails ye / Is past comprehension to tell.
Guid stuff's no sae common, Christina, / And whiles it's no easy to see; / Ye micht tryst wi' the Laird or the Provost, / But ye'll no find the marrows[8] o' me!