'Master,' quoth the auld hound, 'Where will ye go?' 'Over moss, over muir, To court my new jo.' 'Master, though the night be merk, I'se follow through the snow. ' 'Court her, master, court her, So shall ye do weel; But and ben she'll guide the house, I'se get milk and meal. Ye'se get lilting while she sits With her rock and reel.' 'For, oh! she has a sweet tongue, And een that look down, A gold girdle for her waist, And a purple gown. She has a good word forbye Fra a' folk in the town.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEAD LOVE by MARY MATHEWS ADAMS INDIA by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TO ONE BEREFT by ETHEL KNAPP BEHRMAN THE WRESTLERS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET TO A FRIEND, WITH A VOLUME OF VERSES by MATHILDE BLIND ON THE THRESHOLD by LE ROY J. N. BOYD THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A DREAM by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |