The Lass of Ballochmyle (1819)/The Minstrel
For other versions of this work, see The Minstrel ('Keen blaws the wind o'er Donnocht-Head').
THE MINSTREL.
Keen blaws the wind o’er Donnocht-Head,
The snaw drives snellie through the dale;
The Gaber-lunzie tirls my sneck,
And, shivering, tells his waefu' tale.
The snaw drives snellie through the dale;
The Gaber-lunzie tirls my sneck,
And, shivering, tells his waefu' tale.
Cauld is the night O let me in,
And dinna let your rainstrel fa';
And dinna let his winding sheet
Be naething but a wreath o’ snaw.
And dinna let your rainstrel fa';
And dinna let his winding sheet
Be naething but a wreath o’ snaw.
Full ninety winters hae I seen,
And piped whare gor-oocks whining flew;
And manie a day ye've danced, I ween,
To lilts which from my drone I blew.
And piped whare gor-oocks whining flew;
And manie a day ye've danced, I ween,
To lilts which from my drone I blew.
My Eppie waked, and soon she cried,
Get up, guidman, and let him in:
For weel ye ken the winter night
Was short when he began his din.
Get up, guidman, and let him in:
For weel ye ken the winter night
Was short when he began his din.
My Eppie's voice, O wow it’s sweet,
Even tho’ she bans and soaulds a wee;
But when it’s tuned to sorrow’s tale,
O, haith, its doubly dear to me?
Even tho’ she bans and soaulds a wee;
But when it’s tuned to sorrow’s tale,
O, haith, its doubly dear to me?
Come in, auld carl, I'd steer-my five,
I'll make it bleeze a bonnie flame;
Your bluid is thin, ye've tint the gate,
Ye should na stray sae far frae hame.
I'll make it bleeze a bonnie flame;
Your bluid is thin, ye've tint the gate,
Ye should na stray sae far frae hame.
Nae hame have I, the minstrel said,
Sad party-strife o’erturned my ha’;
And, weeping at the eve of life,
I wander through a wreath o’ snaw;
Sad party-strife o’erturned my ha’;
And, weeping at the eve of life,
I wander through a wreath o’ snaw;