O Rabbie, I hae seen the day Ye wad hae me sigh Wi words laced wi promise love But trowth, I care’t na by Aye, I saw ye on the moor I geck at ye noo, no cos yer poor Ye treated me like yin o yer hoors And I canna thole the lies I cam hame on Sunday last By then glamour’s spell became uncast Severin ties o tender past And trowth, o that care I I doot na man,that ye maun think Ye lost yer chairm, fer I hae clink But it’s no fer gowd that I shrink My love fer it tae die Puir hurt Rabbie, greetin the dark I pity that lass doon at yon park Awa and tak her in the sark And trowth, I care’t na by Blame me Rabbie, fer haein gear Girn and scrieve o love nae mair Ten hale verses tae say ye dinna care? I’ll wager that’s a lie. Yer pride’s been dunted, no yer hert Fer me, a lassie chose anither airt Awa and play wounded in the dirt Etter yer reasons as tae why It’s no the money that maks me mean It’s the flirtin ye dae on the scene So whit if I decided I am a Queen And look sae prood and high
About this poem
This poem was commissioned by the Scottish Poetry Library for Burns Day 2022.