Dorothy Una Ratcliffe Poems >>
Girl To Her Chance-Bairn

SOME neets are made for courtin',
Neets when a new-born moon
Lies like a bairn in a creddle o' trees
An' rockin' sounds like incomin' seas,
As t' young wind whistles a tune.

Some neets are made for matin';
Neets when a moon is round
An' breetly shines on wed an' unwed,
When bracken an' ling mak' a bonnie bed,
An' pillow, a blaeberry mound.

Some neets are made for greetin';
Neets when a moon is lost,
An' hullets call fra' t' byre-eave
(Oh! that a lad should luve an' leave
An' a lass alone pay t' cost!).

Some neets are made for achin',
Heart-breakin' luve-begot!
Be canny wi' t' lads an' let 'em sing
While yan on 'em gi'es thee a gowden ring .
Then forget thi Mother's lot.
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COMMON ENGLISH VERSION
Some nights are made for courting,
Nights when the new-born moon
Lies like a babe in a cradle of trees
With a noise like the sound of incoming seas
As the young wind whistles a tune.

Some nights are made for loving,
Nights when the moon is round
And brightly shines on the wed and unwed.
When bracken and heather make a fine bed,
And the pillow a bilberry mound.

Some nights are made for crying,
Nights when the moon is lost
And owls call from the big barn eave,
Oh that a lad should love and leave,
And a lass alone pay the cost.

Some nights are made for aching,
Heart-breaking love begot.
Be pleasant with the lads and let them sing
Until one of them gives you a golden ring . . . .
Never forget thy Mother's hard lot.