Her Answer

     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.