Auld Robin Gray (1825)/Continuation of Auld Robin Gray
CONTINUATION OF AULD ROBIN GRAY.
I.
The spring had pass'd over, 'twas summer nae mair,
And trembling were scatter'd the leaves in the air:
"Oh, winter!" said Jenny, "we kindly agree,
For wae looks the sun when he shines upon me."
II.
Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent—
Despair it had come, and she thought it content;
She thought it content, but her cheek was grown pale,
And she droop'd like a lily bent down by the hail
III.
Her father was sad, and her mother was wae,
But silent and thoughtfu' was Auld Robin Gray;
He wander'd his lane, and his face look'd as lean
As the side of a brae where the torrents have been.
IV.
He gaed to his bed, but nae physic wou'd take,
And often he said, "It is best, for her sake."
While Jenny supported his head as he lay,
Her tears trickled down upon Auld Robin Gray.
V.
"O, greet nae mair, Jenny," said he, wi' a groan;
"I'm no worth your sorrow—the truth maun be known!
Send round for our neighbours; my hour it draws near,
And I've that to tell that it's fit a' should hear.
VI.
"I've wrong'd her," he said, "but I kent it o'er late;
I've wrong'd her, and sorrow is speeding my date.
But a's for the best, since my death will soon free
A faithfu' young heart, that was ill match'd wi' me.
VII.
"I loved and I courted her mony a day;
The auld folks were for me, but still she said nae.
I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet of her vow;
In mercy forgive me!—'twas I stole the cow!
VIII.
"I cared not for Crummie; I thought but o' thee!
I thought it was Crummie stood 'twixt you and me.
While she fed your parents, oh! did you not say,
You never would marry wi' Auld Robin Gray?
IX.
"But sickness at hame, and want at the door,
You gied me your hand, while your heart it was sore.
I saw it was sore—why took I her hand?
Oh! that was a deed to cry shame o'er the land.
X.
"But truth, soon or late, it comes ever to light;
For Jamie came back, and your cheek it grew white.
White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me;
Oh, Jenny, I'm thankfu'—I'm thankfu' to dee!
XI.
"Is Jamie come here yet?" and Jamie they saw.
"I've injured you sair, lad, so leave you my a';
Be kind to my Jenny, and soon may it be!
Waste nae time, my dauties, in mourning for me."
XII.
They kiss'd his cauld hands; and a smile o'er his face
Seem'd hopefu' of being accepted by grace:
"Oh, doubtna," said Jamie, "forgi'en he will be;
Wha wou'dna be tempted, my love, to win thee?"
*****
XIII.
The first days were dowie while time slipp'd awa;
Though saddest and sairest to Jenny of a',
Was fearing she cou'dna be honest and right,
Wi' tears in her ee, while her heart was sae light.
XIV.
But nae guile had she, and her sorrows away,
The wife of her Jamie—the tears cou'dna stay.
A bonnie wee bairn—the auld folks by the fire;—
O now she has a' that her heart can desire.