THE ROOF OF STRAW.
I ask no lordling's titled name,
Nor miser's hoarded store;
I ask to live with those I love,
Contented though I 'm poor.
From joyless pomp and heartless mirth
I gladly will withdraw,
And hide me in this lowly vale,
Beneath my roof of straw.
To hear my Nancy's lips pronounce
A husband's cherish'd name,
To press my children to my heart
Are titles, wealth and fame.
Let kings and conquerors delight
To hold the world in awe,
Be mine to find content and peace
Beneath my roof of straw.
When round the winters' warm fireside
We meet with social joy,
The glance of love to every heart
Shall speak from every eye.
More lovely far such such scenes of bliss
Than monarch ever saw,
Even angels might delight to dwell
Beneath my roof of straw.
THOU KEN'ST, MARY HAY.[91]
Tune—"Bonny Mary Hay."
Thou ken'st, Mary Hay, that I loe thee weel,
My ain auld wife, sae canty and leal,
Then what gars thee stand wi' the tear in thine e'e,
And look aye sae wae, when thou look'st at me?
Dost thou miss, Mary Hay, the saft bloom o' my cheek,
And the hair curling round it, sae gentie and sleek?
For the snaw 's on my head, and the roses are gane,
Since that day o' days I first ca'd thee my ain.
But though, Mary Hay, my auld e'en be grown dim,
An age, wi' its frost, maks cauld every limb,
My heart, thou kens weel, has nae cauldness for thee,
For simmer returns at the blink o' thine e'e.