Blackhall, Sheena
Sources: Maternite - George Hitchcock
She humphs a muckle wechty pack,
A littlin in her airms,
Twa dooncast een,
Twa trauchelt sheen,
A pathie, teem o cherms.
A weariet deem. Afore her een,
Her shadda raxxes, black.
A wee fitfa,
In stirkie's staa,
The laddie at her back.
An neither spikks, fur spikk is by,
They haik the stoory road
That aa maun wauk
Frae first day-brakk
Each, wi his different load.
Wi some deep wrang, her thochts are thrang.
Her bairn wad like tae climm
Intae her briest. Anither, reists
Far aince she bosied him.
A mither's as the risin sun,
She smiles, the bairn rins weel
Bit fin she's wae, it soors his day
And dowie is his dreel.
A meenit's rest wad cheer the bairn,
Fa hyters on clean-deen.
The mither seeks a langer sleep...
The wyvin girse abeen.