The Wild Lass
[Marion Angus (1866-1946)]
Marion Angus believed that none of her poems were a success unless they could be sung. Perhaps that is what has made this little mysterious piece such a joy so set.
Kirsty Law sings The Wild Lass
Hameward you're traivelling in the saft hill rain
The day lang by that you wearied o' the glen
Nae ring upon your hand, nae kiss upon your moo'
Oh, quiet noo
There's fiddlers an' dancin' and steps gaun by the doors
But nane o' them sall fret ye in the lang nicht hoors
Peace come on the wind, peace fa' wi' the dew
Oh, Quiet noo
Cauld was the lift aboon ye, the road baith roch an' steep
Nae farther sall ye wander nor greet yersel' tae sleep
My ain wild lass, my bonnie-hearted do'e
Quiet, quiet noo