Love

The Kiss Ahint the Door

by Thomas C. Latto born 1818

From The Modern Scottish Minstrel, vol. 6 (1855–57)

Love

There 's meikle bliss in ae fond kiss,
Whiles mair than in a score;
But wae betak' the stouin smack
I took ahint the door.

O laddie, whisht! for sic a fricht
I ne'er was in afore;
Fou brawly did my mither hear
The kiss ahint the door.
The wa's are thick--ye needna fear;
But, gin they jeer and mock,
I 'll swear it was a startit cork,
Or wyte the rusty lock.
There 's meikle bliss, &c.

We stappit ben, while Maggie's face
Was like a lowin' coal;
An' as for me, I could hae crept
Into a mouse's hole.
The mither look't--saffs how she look't!--
Thae mithers are a bore,
An' gleg as ony cat to hear
A kiss ahint the door.
Their 's meikle bliss, &c.

The douce gudeman, tho' he was there,
As weel micht been in Rome,
For by the fire he puff'd his pipe,
An' never fash'd his thumb;
But, titterin' in a corner, stood
The gawky sisters four--
A winter's nicht for me they micht
Hae stood ahint the door.
There 's meikle bliss, &c.

"How daur ye tak' sic freedoms here?"
The bauld gudewife began;
Wi' that a foursome yell got up--
I to my heels and ran.
A besom whiskit by my lug,
An' dishclouts half-a-score:
Catch me again, tho' fidgin' fain,
At kissin 'hint the door.
There 's meikle bliss, &c.

MLA

Latto, Thomas C. “The Kiss Ahint the Door.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/latto/0/.

Chicago

Latto, Thomas C. “The Kiss Ahint the Door.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/latto/0/.

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