The Book of Scottish Song/My Mother bids me bind
My Mother bids me bind.
[The authoress of this song, and of others which we shall presently quote, was Mrs. John Hunter, wife of the distinguished anatomist and physiologist, John Hunter, whose brother, William, founded the Hunterian Museum at Glasgow. Her maiden name was Anne Home, and she was the eldest daughter of Robert Home of Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, a surgeon in the army. She was born in 1742, married in 1771, and died in 1821. A volume of her poems was published at London in 1802, dedicated to her son.]
My mother bids me bind my hair
With bands of rosy hue,
Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,
And lace my boddice blue.
For why, she cries, sit still and weep,
While others dance and play?
Alas! I scarce can go or creep,
While Lubin is away.
'Tis sad to think the days are gone,
When those we love were near;
I sit upon this mossy stone,
And sigh when none can hear.
And while I spin my flaxen thread,
And sing my simple lay,
The village seems asleep, or dead,
Now Lubin is away.