Poetry Archives

Oh Maggie, do you mind the day
        We went to school together,
And as we stoppit by the way
        I rolled you in the heather?
My! but you were the bonny lass
        And we were awfu’ late for class.

Your locks are now as white as snow,
        And you are ripe and wrinkled,
A grandmother ten times or so,
        Yet how your blue eyes twinkled
At me above your spectacles,
        Recalling naughty neck-tickles!

It must be fifty years today
        I left you for the Yukon;
You haven’t changed—your just as gay
        And just as sweet to look on.
But can you see in this old fool
        The lad who made you late for school?

Oh Maggie, ask me in to tea
        And we can talk things over,
And contemplate the nuptial state,
    For I am still your lover:
And though the bell be slow to chime
    We’ll no be grudgin’ o’ the time