Poem by Charles Murray (1864-1941), a kenspeckle writer of Doric Scots, set raw music below.
At the Loanin Mou’ [At the edge of the yard]
THE tears were drappin’ frae baith her een,
When I was sayin’ “Goodbye” the streen,
An’ we baith were wae as we weel micht be,
The wife at the mou’ o’ the loan an’ me.
Yet what could I do at a tie like this
But lift her chin for a pairtin’ kiss,
An’ leave her to look to the bairns an’ kye,
An’ warsle her lane till the war was bye?
Wi’ the country cryin’ for mair to come,
What man could bide at the lug o’ the lum,
Or sleep upon feathers or caff for shame
To think he was lyin’ sae saft at hame?
What scaith may come man canna foresee,
But naething waur can a mortal dree
Than leavin’ a wife at a time like noo,
Greetin’ her lane at the loanin’ mou’.