Poem by Christian Milne

On a Lady

WHO SPOKE WITH SOME ILL-NATURE OF THE
ADVERTISEMENT OF MY LITTLE WORK IN
THE "ABERDEEN JOURNAL."

SAYS pert Miss PRUE,
There's something new
In CHALMERS ' weekly papers--
A Shipwright's Wife,
In humble life,
Writes RHYME by nightly tapers!!
That folks of taste
Their time should waste
To read them, makes me wonder!
A low-born fool,
Ne'er bred at school,
What can SHE do but blunder?
Write rhyme, forsooth!
Upon my truth
'Twill put it out of fashion;
She can but paint,
In colours faint,
Rude Nature's lowest passion.
A wife so mean
Should nurse, and clean,
And mend her husband's jacket;
Not spend her time
In writing rhyme,
And raising such a racket!

1. Written during a State of Illness
2. The Parting
3. Written on the Morning of the Communion Sabbath
4. Song 2 (AT eve, when Dee's transparent stream)
5. When in Dread of My Husband’s Safety at Sea

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