Page:Scotland's skaith, or, The history o' Will and Jean.pdf/13

13 Cauld the blast!—the day was sleeting;
 * Pouch and purse without a plack!

In ilk hand a bairnie greeting,
 * And the third tied on her back.

Wan her face! and lean and haggard!
 * Ance sae sonsy, ance sae sweet,

What a change.—unhous'd and beggar'd,
 * Starving, without claise or meat.

Far frae ilk kent spot she wander'd,
 * Skulking like a guilty thief;

Here and there, uncertain, daunder'd,
 * Stupified wi' shame and grief.

But soon shame for bygane errors
 * Fled owre fast for e'e to trace,

Whan grim Death, wi' a' his terrors,
 * Cam owre ilk sweet bairnie's face.

Spent wi' toil, and cauld and hunger,
 * Baith down drapt, and down Jean sat,

"Daiz'd and doited" now nae langer,
 * Thought—and felt—and, bursting, grat.

Gloaming fast, wi' mirky shadow,
 * Crap owre distant hill and plain;

Darken'd wood, and glen, and meadow,
 * Adding fearfu' thoughts to pain.

Round and round, in wild distraction,
 * Jeanie turn'd her tearfu' ee!

Round and round, for some protection!—
 * Face nor house she cou'd na see!