In Glenskenno Woods by Helen Cruickshank

Under an arch o’ bramble
Saftly she goes,
Dark broon een like velvet,
Cheeks like the rose.

Ae lang branch o’ the bramble
Dips ere she pass,
Tethers wi’ thorns the hair
O’ the little lass.

Ripe black fruit, an’ blossom
White on the spray,
Leaves o’ russet an’ crimson,
What wad ye say?

What wad ye say to the bairn
That ye catch her snood,
Haudin’ her there i’ the hush
O’ Glenskenno Wood?

What wad ye say? The autumn
O’ life draws near.
Still she waits, an’ listens,
But canna hear.

from Up the Noran Water and other Scots poems (Methuen, 1934), and included in Collected Poems (Reprographia, 1971)

Reproduced by permission of the Estate of Helen Cruickshank