Classic Poem

Oh I sat by a wayside on Cairn-y-brain
To rest my weary feet-o
And a dark-eyed lass came along in the rain
And gave me greeting sweet-o
A slim Welsh lass on Cairn-y-brain
That gave me greeting sweet.

Said I “Will ye sit here beneath my tree;
For the rain is in your hair-o”
So she came and sat on the lap of me
And O but she was fair-o.
And I kissed her lips full tenderly
Nor did she seem to care.

But wae! I felt in my mickle seat
A brogilly pricklin' pain-o
And I leaped full up on my weary feet
And spilled her out in the rain-o
For a red ant-hill had been my seat
On the heights of Cairn-y-brain.

Then I doffed my kilties before the lass
In the braw and gawmy weather
And I rolled about on the dewey grass
An' the bonny purple heather—
O she ran away in the rain, alas!
An' we'll naemore be together!

O the miles are long to my weary feet
And there's many a tempting braeside
But I'd rather lack my bread and meat
Than sit again by the wayside
Oh nevermore will I take my seat
By the bonny Cymric wayside.