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Poem by Robert Burns


The Poets Welcome to his Love-Begotten Daughter


THOUS welcome, wean! mishanter fa me,
If ought of thee, or of thy mammy,
Shall ever daunton me, or awe me,
    My sweet wee lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca me
    Tit-ta or daddy.

Wee image of my bonnie Betty,
I fatherly will kiss and daut thee,
As dear an near my heart I set thee
    Wi as guid will,
As a the priests had seen me get thee
    Thats out o hell.

What tho they ca me, fornicator,
An tease my name in kintra clatter:
The mair they talk Im kent the better,
    Een let them clash;
An auld wifes tongues a feckless matter
    To gie ane fash.

Welcome, my bonnie, sweet wee dochter-
Tho ye come here a wee unsought for,
An tho your comin I hae fought for
    Barth kirk an queir;
Yet, by my faith, yere no unwrought for!
    That I shall swear!

Sweet fruit o mony a merry dint,
My funny toil is now a tint,
Sin thou came to the warl asklent,
    Which fools may scoff at;
In my last plack thy parts be int-
    The better half ot.

An if thou be what I wad hae thee,
An tak the counsel I shall gie thee,
A lovin father Ill be to thee,
    If thou be spard;
Thro a thy childish years Ill ee thee,
    An thinkt weel ward.

Tho I should be the waur bested,
Thous be as braw an bienly clad,
An thy young years as nicely bred
    Wi education,
As ony brat o wedlocks bed
    In a thy station.

Gude grant that thou may aye inherit
Thy mithers person, grace, an merit,
An thy poor worthless daddys spirit,
    Without his failins;
Twill please me mair to see and hear ot,
    Than stockit mailins.



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Tam Samsons Elegy
  2. To The Same
  3. Could Aught of Song
  4. O Whare Bid Ye Get
  5. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face


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