She rase fu' ear'. And a' theroot
Was ae braid windin' sheet;
At the door-sill, or winnock-lug (window-corner),
Was never a mark o' feet.
She crap a' day aboot the hoose,
Slow-fittit and hert-sair,
Aye keekin' oot like a frichtit moose,--
But Johnnie cam nae mair!
When saft the thow begud to melt
Awa' the ghaistly snaw,
Her hert was safter nor the thow,
Her pride had ta'en a fa.'
And she oot ower the hill wad gang,
Whaur the sun was blinkin' bonnie,
To see his auld minnie (mother) in her cot,
And speir aboot her Johnnie.
But as alang the hill she gaed,
Through snaw und slush and weet,
She stoppit wi' a chokin' cry--
'Twas Johnnie at her feet.
His heid was smoored aneath the snaw,
But his breist was maistly bare;
And 'twixt his breist and his richt han',
He claisp't a lock o' hair.
'Twas gowden hair: she kent it weel.
Alack, the sobs and sighs!
The warm win' blew, the laverock flew,
But Johnnie wadna rise.
The spring cam ower the wastlin (westward) hill,
And the frost it fled awa';
And the green grass luikit smilin' up,
Nane the waur for a' the snaw.
And saft it grew on Johnnie's grave,
Whaur deep the sunshine lay;
But, lang or that, on Elsie's heid
The gowden hair was gray.
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