Classic Poem

Dance for your daddy ,
My canny laddie,
Dance for your mammy,
My wee lamb. …
Day-long beside the smouldering slack
She dodders, crooning with a grin—
Who, one wanchancy seven-night back,
Was hale to work day out day in—

Who'd rise at the first glisk of light,
And take no ease until the sun
Behind Black Belling dipped from sight,
Her long and lonesome day's darg done.

And as she singled swedes she had
Just one thought ever in her mind—
How one fine night her headstrong lad
That she could neither hold nor bind

Would come again to Callerlea
When he had had his coltish fling,
To rest beneath his own roof-tree,
Dog-weary with calleevering.

Bone-tired she crept to bed that night
And slumbered sound till twelve o'clock,
Then started, listening, bolt-upright,
Awaked by some unearthly shock.

She heard his footstep on the stair:
She heard the clicking of the sneck:
The door swung wide, and he stood there—
A ghostly halter round his neck.

Dance for your daddy ,
My canny laddie,
Dance for your mammy,
My wee lamb. …