The Poetry Corner

The Lad I' The Mune

By Violet Jacob

I O gin I lived i' the gowden mune Like the mannie that smiles at me, I'd sit a' nicht in my hoose abune An the wee-bit stars they wad ken me sune, For I'd sup my brose wi' a gowden spune And they wad come out to see! II For weel I ken that the mune's his ain And he is the maister there; A' nicht he's lauchin', for, fegs, there's nane To draw the blind on his windy-pane And tak' an' bed him, to lie his lane And pleasure himsel' nae mair. III Says I to Grannie, "Keek up the glen Abune by the rodden tree, There's a braw lad 'yont i' the mune, ye ken." Says she, "Awa' wi' ye, bairn, gang ben, For noo it's little I fash wi' men An' it's less that they fash wi' me!" IV When I'm as big as the tinkler-man That sings i' the loan a' day, I'll bide wi' him i' the tinkler-van Wi' a wee-bit pot an' a wee-bit pan; But I'll no tell Grannie my bonnie plan, For I dinna ken what she'll say. V And, nicht by nicht, we will a' convene And we'll be a cantie three; We'll lauch an' crack i' the loanin' green, The kindest billies that ever was seen, The tinkler-man wi' his twinklin' een And the lad i' the mune an' me!