O wha’s the bride that cairries the bunch
O’ thistles blinterin white?
Her cuckold bridegroom little dreids
What he sail ken this nicht.
For closer than gudeman can come
And closer to’r than hersel,
Whs. didna need lier maidenheid
Has wrocht his purpose fell.
wha’s been here afore me, lass,
And hoo did he get in?
A man that deed or I was born
This evil thing has din.
And left, as it were on a corpse,
Your maidenheid to me?
Nae lass, gudeman, sin Time began
‘S hed ony mair to gie.
But I can gie ye kindness, lad,
And a pair o willin hands,
And ye sail hae my briests like stars,
My limbs like willow wands.
And on my lips ye’ll heed nac mair,
And in my hair forget,
The seed o a’ the men that in
My virgin womb hae met…
(Hugh MacDiarmid)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Sin Poems, Compassion PoemsBased on Keywords: didna, cuckold, gudeman, hersel, wrocht, lier, blinterin, maidenheid, briests