The Book of Scottish Song/The Women Fo'k
The Women Fo’k.
[James Hogg.]
O sairly may I rue the day
I fancied first the womenkind;
For aye sinsyne I ne'er can ha'e
Ae quiet thought or peace o' mind!
They ha'e plagued my heart an' pleased my e'e,
An' teased an' flatter'd me at will,
But aye for a' their witcherye,
The pawky things I lo'e them still.
O the women fo'k! O the women fo'k!
But they ha'e been the wreck o' me;
O weary fa' the women fo'k,
For they winna let a body be!
I ha'e thought an' thought, but darna tell,
I've studied them wi' a' my skill,
I've lo'ed them better than mysel',
I've tried again to like them ill.
Wha sairest strives, will sairest rue,
To comprehend what nae man can;
When he has done what man can do,
He'll end at last where he began.
O the women fo'k, &c.
That they ha'e gentle forms an' meet,
A man wi' half a look may see;
An' gracefu' airs, an' faces sweet,
An' waving curls aboon the bree;
An' smiles as soft as the young rose-bud,
An' e'en sae pawky, bright, an' rare,
Wad lure the laverock frae the cludd—
But, laddie, seek to ken nae mair!
O the women fo'k, &c.
Even but this night nae farther gane,
The date is neither lost nor lang,
I tak' ye witness ilka ane,
How fell they fought, and fairly dang.
Their point they've carried right or wrang,
Without a reason, rhyme, or law,
An' forced a man to sing a sang,
That ne'er could sing a verse ava.
O the women fo'k! O the women fo'k!
But they ha'e been the wreck o' me;
O weary fa' the women fo'k,
For they winna let a body be!