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Although the priest, and her neist elder,
In pointed language plainly tell'd her,—
'We're here the day—awa to-morrow,
Nor should be swallow'd up wi' sorrow.'
After a short, but decent season,
The widow thus began to reason:—
'Why should I for a husband mourn,
Will greetin gar the man return.'
Now, though her storm o' grief blew over,
She didna turn a wanton lover;
Although it also must be granted,
Anither husband soon she wanted:
But this was only on condition,
Of asking the divine permission.
Full sax lang weeks were gane and past,
After the farmer breath'd his last,
When, having clos'd her house affairs,
Ae e'ening she was at her prayers.
'Twas in the barn,—the usual place,—
Whare loud she pray'd for gear and grace.
Here then she wrestled hard and fervent,
That God would pity his puir servant;
As her dear husband now had left her,
And o' ae comfort had bereft her;
As he was ane o' her ain chusing,
And really ane amang a thousand,
She pray'd, if such was Heaven's decree,
Anither just as gude as he
Might influenced be to court her,
Nor wad she keep him lang in torture;
But mak him happy, wi' her haun,
Wi' stock and farm at his commaun.
The righteous' prayers availeth much,
And Maggie's prayers were really such.
Her servant man, a sturdy chield,
As ever swung a flail or teild,
In pointed language plainly tell'd her,—
'We're here the day—awa to-morrow,
Nor should be swallow'd up wi' sorrow.'
After a short, but decent season,
The widow thus began to reason:—
'Why should I for a husband mourn,
Will greetin gar the man return.'
Now, though her storm o' grief blew over,
She didna turn a wanton lover;
Although it also must be granted,
Anither husband soon she wanted:
But this was only on condition,
Of asking the divine permission.
Full sax lang weeks were gane and past,
After the farmer breath'd his last,
When, having clos'd her house affairs,
Ae e'ening she was at her prayers.
'Twas in the barn,—the usual place,—
Whare loud she pray'd for gear and grace.
Here then she wrestled hard and fervent,
That God would pity his puir servant;
As her dear husband now had left her,
And o' ae comfort had bereft her;
As he was ane o' her ain chusing,
And really ane amang a thousand,
She pray'd, if such was Heaven's decree,
Anither just as gude as he
Might influenced be to court her,
Nor wad she keep him lang in torture;
But mak him happy, wi' her haun,
Wi' stock and farm at his commaun.
The righteous' prayers availeth much,
And Maggie's prayers were really such.
Her servant man, a sturdy chield,
As ever swung a flail or teild,
