Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake

George Halket (d. 1756)

Logie o’ Buchan

O LOGIE o’ Buchan, O Logie the laird,

They ha’e ta’en awa’ Jamie, that delved in the yard,

Wha play’d on the pipe, and the viol sae sma’,

They ha’e ta’en awa’ Jamie, the flow’r o’ them a’.

He said, Think na lang lassie, tho’ I gang awa’;

For simmer is coming, cauld winter ’s awa’,

And I ’ll come and see thee in spite of them a’.

Tho’ Sandy has ousen, has gear, and has kye;

A house, and a hadden, and siller forbye:

Yet I ’d tak’ my ain lad, wi’ his staff in his hand,

Before I ’d ha’e him, wi’ the houses and land.

My daddie looks sulky, my minnie looks sour,

They frown upon Jamie because he is poor;

Tho’ I lo’e them as weel as a daughter should do,

They ’re nae half sa dear to me, Jamie, as you.

I sit on my creepie, I spin at my wheel,

And think on the laddie that lo’ed me sae weel;

He had but ae saxpence, he brak it in twa,

And gied me the hauf o’t when he ga’d awa’.

Then haste ye back, Jamie, and bide na awa’,

The simmer is coming, cauld winter ’s awa’,

And ye ’ll come and see me in spite o’ them a’.