To Robin Goodfellow
I see you, Maister Bawsy-brown,
Through yonder lattice creepin’;
You come for cream and to gar me dream,
But you dinna find me sleepin’.
The moonbeam, that upon the floor
Wi’ crickets ben a-jinkin’,
Now steals away fra’ her bonnie play—
Wi’ a rosier blie, I’m thinkin’.
I saw you, Maister Bawsy-brown,
When the blue bells went a-ringin’
For the merrie fays o’ the banks an’ braes,
And I kenned your bonnie singin’;
The gowans gave you honey sweets,
And the posies on the heather
Dript draughts o’ dew for the faery crew
That danct and sang together.
But posie-bloom an’ simmer-dew
And ither sweets o’ faery
C’u’d na gae down wi’ Bawsy-brown,
Sae nigh to Maggie’s dairy!
My pantry shelves, sae clean and white,
Are set wi’ cream and cheeses,—
Gae, gin you will, an’ take your fill
Of whatsoever pleases.
Then wave your wand aboon my een
Until they close awearie,
And the night be past sae sweet and fast
Wi’ dreamings o’ my dearie.
But pinch the wench in yonder room,
For she’s na gude nor bonnie,—
Her shelves be dust and her pans be rust,
And she winkit at my Johnnie!