Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875.
William Julius Mickle CLIV. The Sailors WifeA
And are ye sure he’s weel?
Is this the time to think o’ wark?
Ye jades, lay by your wheel;
Is this the time to spin a thread,
When Colin’s at the door?
Reach down my cloak, I’ll to the quay,
And see him come ashore.
For there’s nae luck about the house,
There’s nae luck at a’;
There’s little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman’s awa’.
My bishop’s satin gown;
For I maun tell the baillie’s wife
That Colin’s in the town.
My Turkey slippers maun gae on,
My stockins pearly blue:
It’s a’ to pleasure our gudeman,
For he’s baith leal and true.
Put on the muckle pot;
Gie little Kate her button gown
And Jock his Sunday coat;
And mak’ their shoon as black as slaes,
Their hose as white as snaw:
It’s a’ to please my ain gudeman,
For he’s been long awa’.
Been fed this month and mair;
Mak’ haste and thraw their necks about,
That Colin weel may fare;
And spread the table neat and clean,
Gar ilka thing look braw,
For wha can tell how Colin fared
When he was far awa’?
His breath like caller air;
His very foot has music in’t
As he comes up the stair:
And will I see his face again?
And will I hear him speak?
I’m downright dizzy wi’ the thought,
In troth I’m like to greet!
I hae nae mair to crave;
And gin I live to keep him sae,
I’m blest aboon the lave:
And will I see his face again,
And will I hear him speak?
I’m downright dizzy wi’ the thought,
In troth I’m like to greet!
For there’s nae luck about the house,
There’s nae luck at a’;
There’s little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman’s awa’.