Search just our sites by using our customised search engine
Unique Cottages | Electric Scotland's Classified Directory

Click here to get a Printer Friendly Page

The Eternal Feminine
by John Buchan
Read by Marilyn Wright

Click here to listen to this in RealAudio

John Buchan

                                    When I was a freckled bit bairn
                                    And cam in frae my ploys to the fire,
                                    Wi' my buits a' clamjamphried wi' shairn
                                    And my jaicket a' speldered wi' mire,
                                    I got gloomin' and glunchin' and paiks,
                                    And nae bite frae the press or the pan,
                                    And my auld grannie said as she skelped me to bed,
                                    'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'
                                    When I was a lang-leggit lad,
                                    At waddin's and kirns a gey cheild,
                                    I hae happit a lass in my maud
                                    And gone cauldrife that she micht hae beild,
                                    And convoyed her bye bogles and stirks,
                                    A kiss at the hindmost my plan;
                                    But a' that I fand was the wecht o' her hand,
                                    And 'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'
                                    When Ailie and me were made yin
                                    We set up in a canty bit cot;
                                    Sair wrocht we day oot and day in,
                                    We were unco content wi' oor lot.
                                    But whiles wi' a neebor I'd tak
                                    A gless that my heid couldna stan';
                                    Syne she'd greet for a week, and nae word wad she speak
                                    But 'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'
                                    She dee'd, and my dochter and me
                                    For the lave wi' ilk ither maun shift.
                                    Nae tentier lass could ye see;
                                    The wooers cam doun like a drift;
                                    But sune wi' an unco blae glower
                                    Frae the doorstep they rade and they ran,
                                    And she sigh to hersel', as she gae'd to the well
                                    'Hech sirs, what a burden is man!'
                                    She's mairrit by noo and she's got
                                    A white-heided lass o' her ain.
                                    White-heided mysel, as I stot
                                    Roond the doors o' her shouther I'm fain.
                                    What think ye that wean said yestreen?
                                    I'll tell ye, believe't if ye can;
                                    She primmed up her mou' and said saft as a doo,
                                    'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'

Return to Poetry/Quotes/Stories


This comment system requires you to be logged in through either a Disqus account or an account you already have with Google, Twitter, Facebook or Yahoo. In the event you don't have an account with any of these companies then you can create an account with Disqus. All comments are moderated so they won't display until the moderator has approved your comment.

comments powered by Disqus