Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages онлайн

74 страница из 152

I've walth o' plenishen and gear,[40]

Yese get it a', war't ten times mair, gin[41] ye will leave your Mammy.

"The smile gaed aff her bonny face—'I mauna leave my Mammy!

She's gi'en me meat, she's gi'en me claes,[42]

She's been my comfort a' my days,

My Father's death brought mony waes—I canna leave my Mammy.'"

"We'll tak her hame and mak her fain, my ain kind-hearted Lammy,

We'll gie her meat, we'll gi'e her claes,

We'll be her comfort a' her days:"

The wee thing gi'es her hand, and says, "There, gang and ask my Mammy."

"Has she been to kirk wi' thee, my boy Tammy?"

"She has been to kirk wi' me,

And the tear was in her ee,

But Oh! she's but a young thing just come frae her Mammy."

Hector Macneill

ssss1

Rosy apple, lemon, or pear,

Bunch of roses she shall wear;

Gold and silver by her side,

I know who will be the bride.

Take her by her lily-white hand,

Lead her to the altar;

Give her kisses,—one, two, three,—

Mother's runaway daughter.

ssss1