As I gae'd doon by the toon when the day was springin'
The Baltic brigs lay thick by the soundin' quay
And the riggin' hummed wi' the sang that the wind was singin',
"Free—gang free,
For there's mony a load on shore may be skailed at sea!"
* * * * * *
When I cam' hame wi' the thrang o' the years 'ahint me
There was naucht to see for the weeds and the lade in spate,
But the water-hen by the dams she seemed aye to mind me,
Cryin' "Hope—wait!"
"Aye, bird, but my een grow dim, an' it's late—late!"
THE HEID HORSEMAN
O Alec, up at Soutar's fairm,
You, that's sae licht o' he'rt,
I ken ye passin' by the tune
Ye whustle i' the cairt;
I hear the rowin' o' the wheels,
The clink o' haims an' chain,
And set abune yer stampin' team
I see ye sit yer lane.
Ilk morn, agin' the kindlin' sky
Yer liftit heid is black,
Ilk nicht I watch ye hameward ride
Wi' the sunset at yer back.
For wark's yer meat and wark's yer play,
Heid horseman tho' ye be,
Ye've ne'er a glance for wife nor maid,
Ye tak nae tent o' me.
An' man, ye'll no suspec' the truth,
Tho' weel I ken it's true,
There's mony ane that trails in silk
Wha fain wad gang wi' you.
But I am just a serving lass,
Wha toils to get her breid,
An' O! ye're sweir to see the gowd
I braid about my heid.