The Old Maids Story

Ay, many and many a year’s gone by,

Since the dawn of that day in spring,

When we met in the pine-woods, Harry and I,

And he gave me this golden ring.

I had lovers in plenty, of high degree,

Who wooed in my father’s hall;

But none were so noble and brave as he,

Though he was the scorn’d of all.

On the soft, green grass, where the shadows lay,

All fleck’d with the sun and dew,

With a ring and a kiss did we seal, that day,

Our vow to be leal and true.

‘Twas a life-long vow;-but they did not know-

And they thought not of love or pain;-

We met just once in the sleet and snow-

We were never to meet again!

He was sent away o’er the blank, wide sea,

And I, with my hopes and fears,

Had never a message to comfort me

For over a score of years.

They laugh’d at my heart, they paraded my hand,

But I answer’d them, cold and grim-

“If Harry ne’er comes to his native land,

They shall only belong to him.”

At last came a tale from the battle-field;-

And they were not scornful now.

The sentence of exile might be repealed-

They would honour our plighted vow!

They told how my Harry, like olden knights,

Had fought for his land and Queen;

Fought hard and well on the Alma heights,

Where the deadliest strife was seen.

They told how he fell in the fire and smoke,

And they gave me his things to keep;

They wonder’d why I never cried or spoke,-

But it was too late to weep.

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Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: A Poet’s Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter: The First Instance That Entitled Him To The Venerable Appellation Of Father by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epistle To John Rankine: Enclosing Some Poems by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Reply To An Announcement By J. Rankine: On His Writing To The Poet, That A Girl In That Part Of The Country Was With A Child To Him. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Ballad On The American War: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns Country: In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On My Ever Honoured Father: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On My Own Friend And My Father’s Friend, Wm. Muir In Tarbolton Mill: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On James Grieve, Laird Of Boghead, Tarbolton : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph On Wm. Hood, Senr., In Tarbolton: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Remorse: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Wha Is That At My Bower-Door: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Green Grow The Rashes: A Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Nanie, O: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Song Composed In August: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Rigs O’ Barley: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: I Dream’d I Lay: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Poor Mailie’s Elegy: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author’s Only Pet Yowe., The. An Unco Mournfu’ Tale: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: John Barleycorn: A Ballad : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Father Was A Farmer: by Robert Burns

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