Explore "The Howdie" by David Rorie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ 'Twas in a wee bit but-an'-ben / She bade when first I kent her, / Doon the side roadie by the kirk / Whaur Andra was precentor.
An' a' the week he keepit thrang / At's wark as village thatcher, / Whiles sairly fashed by women folk, / Wi' "Hurry up an' catch her!"
Nae books e'er ravel't Tibbie's harns, / Nae college lear had reached her, / An' a' she kent aboot her job / Her ain experience teached her.
To this cauld warld in fifty year / She'd fosh near auchteen hunner. / Losh keep's! When a' thing's said an' dune, / The cratur' was a won'er!
A' gate she'd traivelled day an' nicht, / A' kin' o' orra weather / Had seen her trampin' on the road, / Or trailin' through the heather.
But Time had set her pechin' sair, / As on his way he birled; / The body startit failin' fast / An' gettin' auld an' nirled.
An' syne, to weet the bairnie's heid / Owre muckle, whiles, they'd gie her; / But noo she's deid-ay, mony a year- / An' Andra's sleepin' wi' her.