Robert Nicoll (Роберт Николь)

Menie

Fu' ripe, ripe was her rosy lip,
    And raven was her hair;
And white, white was her swan-like neck—
    Her een like starnies were!
As raven, raven was her hair,
    So like the snaw her brow;
And the words that fell frae her wee saft mou'
    Were happy words I trow!

And pure, pure was her maiden heart,
    And ne'er a thought o' sin
Durst venture there—an angel dwelt
    Its borders a' within!
And fair as was her sweet bodie,
    Yet fairer was her mind;
Menie's the queen amang the flowers—
    The wale of womankind.

1. We'll A' Go Pu' the Heather
2. The Bailie
3. The Ha' Bible
4. Janet Dunbar
5. The Smith

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1707

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