Her Answer
1795
Type: Poem
O tell na me o’ wind an’ rain,
Upbraid na me wi’ cauld disdain,
Gae back the gate ye cam again,
I winna let ye in, jo.
Chorus-I tell you now this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
And ance for a’ this ae night,
I winna let ye in, jo.
The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
That round the pathless wand’rer pours
Is nocht to what poor she endures,
That’s trusted faithless man, jo.
I tell you now, &c.
The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,
Now trodden like the vilest weed-
Let simple maid the lesson read
The weird may be her ain, jo.
I tell you now, &c.
The bird that charm’d his summer day,
Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;
Let witless, trusting, Woman say
How aft her fate’s the same, jo!
I tell you now, &c.
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Robert Burns, (born January 25, 1759, Alloway, Ayrshire, Scotland—died July 21, 1796, Dumfries, Dumfriesshire), national poet of Scotland. He wrote lyrics, ballads and songs in Scots and in English. He was also notable for his amorous adventures and his rebellion against religion and morality.