Роберт Андерсон (Robert Anderson)

Will and Kate

Now, Kate, full forty years ha'e flown,
Sin we met on the green;
Frae that to this the saut, saut tear
Has oft stuid i' my een:
For when the bairns were some peet-heet,
Tou kens I leam'd my knee-
Lal todlen things, in want o' bread-
O that went hard wi' me!


Then tou wad cry, 'Come, Wully, lad,
'Keep up thy heart-ne'er fear!
'Our bits o' bairns 'll scraffle up,
'Sae dry that sworry tear:
'There's Matthew's be an alderman;
'A bishop we'll mak Guy;
Lal Ned sal be a clogger;
'Dick sal work for tee and I.'


Then when our crops were spoil'd wi' rain,
Sir Jwohn mud hev his rent;
What cud we dee? nee geer had we-
Sae I to jail was sent:
'Twas hard to starve i' sec a pleace,
Widout a frien to trust;
But when I thought o' thee and bairns,
My heart was like to brust.


Neist, Etty, God was pleas'd to tek,
What then, we'd seeben still;
But whee kens what may happen-suin
The smaw-pox did for Bill:
I think I see his slee-black een,
Then he wad chirm and talk,
And say, Ded, ded; Mam, mam, and aw,
Lang, lang ere he cud walk.


At Carel, when, for six pound ten,
I selt twee Scotty kye,
They pick'd my pocket i' the thrang,
And de'il a plack had I;
'Ne'er ack!' says tou, 'we'll work for mair,'
'It's time eneugh to fret;
A pun o' sorrow wunnet pay
'Ae single ounce o' debt.'


Now, todlen down the hill o' leyfe,
Auld yage has brought content;
And, God be thank'd our bairns are up,
And pay Sir Jwohn his rent:
When, seyde by seyde aw day we sit,
I often think and grieve,
It's hard that deeth sud part auld fwok,
When happy they can leve.

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