The Book of Scottish Song/Wifie, come hame
Wifie, come hame.
[James Ballantine.— From "The Gaberlunzie's Wallet," a beautifully illustrated work, published at Edinburgh, in which are interspersed many poetical pieces replete with genuine Scottish humour and pathos.]
Wifie, come hame,
My couthie wee dame;
O but ye're far awa',
Wifie, come hame.
Come wi' the young bloom o' morn on thy brow,
Come wi' the lowwn star o' love in thine e'e,
Come wi' the red cherries ripe on thy mou',
A' glist' wi' balm, like the dew on the lea;
Come wi' the gowd tassels fringing thy hair,
Come wi' thy rose cheeks a' dimpled wi' glee,
Come wi' thy wee step, and wifie-like air,
O quickly come, and shed blessings on me.
Wifie, come hame,
My couthie wee dame;
O my heart wearies sair,
Wifie, come hame.
Come wi' our love pledge, our dear little dawtie,
Clasping my neck round, an' clambering my knee;
Come let me nestle and press the wee pettie,
Gazing on ilka sweet feature o' thee:
O but the house is a cauld hame without ye,
Lanely and eerie's the life that I dree;
O come awa' an' I'll dance round about ye,
Ye'll ne'er again win frae my arms till I dee