Sprigs o’ Heather: II. Wonderfu’ Slee

O Jamie MacPherson! Ye’re sic a slee person!
I kenned ye for keen ever sin’ we were wee;
Ye hae stown my ain mither, hae stown my ain brither,
Hae stown my ain sister awa’ frae me!

At kirk door they see’d ye—sic follies, I rede ye,
Are na for the likes o’ that Sabbath-day place;
Ye leukit at me wi’ the tear in your e’e,
And ye staw them awa’ wi’ your lang droopit face.

Sic knittin’ o’ brows, mon, sic shakin’ o’ pows, mon,
Sic praisin’ of ye, mon, for douce and genteel!
Mither canna get sleep for the thocht o’ your sheep,
Nor Meg for the thocht o’ the dool ye maun feel.

E’en dumb dozin’ Collie has heard o’ my folly,
And leuks at me sidelang whenever I pass,
His e’e sadly blinkin’, and sighs while down-sinkin’,
As though he were thinkin’, “Puir daft feckless lass!”

Naught for it but roamin’ late into the gloamin’
(Sin’ now it’s na canty beside the hearthstane),
When the pale primsie moon she is walkin’ aboon,
But nae lass below her gaes roamin’ alane!

A lad I hae seen, he has witchin’ black e’en—
O Jamie MacPherson, ye’re wonderfu’ slee!
Ye hae stown my ain mither, hae stown my ain brither,
But Robin has stown my ain heart frae me!