Get Your Premium Membership

208. Song—To the Weaver's gin ye go

 MY heart was ance as blithe and free
 As simmer days were lang;
But a bonie, westlin weaver lad
 Has gart me change my sang.
—To the weaver’s gin ye go, fair maids, To the weaver’s gin ye go; I rede you right, gang ne’er at night, To the weaver’s gin ye go.
My mither sent me to the town, To warp a plaiden wab; But the weary, weary warpin o’t Has gart me sigh and sab.
To the weaver’s, &c.
A bonie, westlin weaver lad Sat working at his loom; He took my heart as wi’ a net, In every knot and thrum.
To the weaver’s, &c.
I sat beside my warpin-wheel, And aye I ca’d it roun’; But every shot and evey knock, My heart it gae a stoun.
To the weaver’s, &c.
The moon was sinking in the west, Wi’ visage pale and wan, As my bonie, westlin weaver lad Convoy’d me thro’ the glen.
To the weaver’s, &c.
But what was said, or what was done, Shame fa’ me gin I tell; But Oh! I fear the kintra soon Will ken as weel’s myself! To the weaver’s, &c.

Poem by Robert Burns
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - 208. Song—To the WeaverEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

More Poems by Robert Burns

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on 208. Song—To the Weaver's gin ye go

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem 208. Song—To the Weaver's gin ye go here.

Commenting turned off, sorry.