Haste not thine wisdom, for the hollow is ta'en -
By whom, know I not: 'lack! am I of twain -
And as a crux - cede I my words -* Fro' my heart wilt thou ne'er
Have I been 'sooth sinsyne.* Be left without - come!* Thine voice is oh so sweet
I speer thine pine,* Ryking for me:
Ryking for thee;* "
List and heed", thou say'st
Whistful, whistful -* Chancing to lure.
Chancing to lure,
Skirl and skreigh, but for thine ears, aye, lown 'tis -
Dodge na 'way herefro, do come here in eath!
Mayhap lured by the scent of lote -'
Od! - the foetid - eft hie back I mote;
For what I did my soul atrounced,* How I wish for thee again,O! do believe me, 'twasn't a frounce.* Will I give thee it: Troth.* Thine voice is oh so sweet
I speer thine pine,* Ryking for me:
Ryking for thee;* "
List and heed", thou say'st
Whistful, whistful -* Chancing to lure.
Chancing to lure,
Skirl and skreigh, but for thine ears, aye, lown 'tis -
Dodge na 'way herefro, do come here in eath!
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