Maggie

By Violet Jacob

    Maggie, I ken that ye are happ’d in glory
        And nane can gar ye greet;
    The joys o’ Heaven are evermair afore ye,
        It’s licht about yer feet.

    I ken nae waefu’ thochts can e’er be near ye
        Nor sorrow fash yer mind,
    In yon braw place they winna let ye weary
        For him ye left behind.

    Thae nichts an’ days when dule seems mair nor double
        I’ll need to dae my best,
    For aye ye took the half o’ ilka trouble,
        And noo I’d hae ye rest.

    Yer he’rt’ll be the same he’rt since yer flittin’,
        Gin auld love doesna tire,
    Sae dinna look an’ see yer lad that’s sittin’
        His lane aside the fire.

    The sky is keen wi’ dancin’ stars in plenty,
        The New Year frost is strang;
    But, O my lass! because the Auld Year kent ye
        I’m sweir to let it gang!

    But time drives forrit; and on ilk December
        There waits a New Year yet,
    An naething bides but what our he’rts remember –
        Maggie, ye’ll na forget?

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on whatsapp
Share on telegram
Share on email
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
Take 20% OFF
Your first purchase
Shop Now
Join Our Family & Subscribe To Our Newsletter
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!
Join Our Family & Subscribe To Our Newsletter
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!