A Poets Welcome to his Love-Begotten Daughter
Thous 1 welcome, wean; mishanter fa me,
If thoughts o thee, or yet thy mamie,
Shall ever daunton me or awe me,
My bonie lady,
Or if I blush when thou shalt ca me
Tyta or daddie.
Tho now they ca me fornicator,
An tease my name in kintry clatter,
The mair they talk, Im kent the better,
Een let them clash;
An auld wifes tongues a feckless matter
To gie ane fash.
Welcome! my bonie, sweet, wee dochter,
Tho ye come here a wee unsought for,
And tho your comin I hae fought for,
Baith kirk and queir;
Yet, by my faith, yere no unwrought for,
That I shall swear!
Wee image o my bonie Betty,
As fatherly I kiss and daut thee,
As dear, and near my heart I set thee
Wi as gude will
As a the priests had seen me get thee
Thats out o hll.
Sweet fruit o mony a merry dint,
My funny toil is now a tint,
Sin thou came to the warl asklent,
Which fools may scoff at;
In my last plack thy parts be int
The better haf ot.
Tho I should be the waur bestead,
Thous be as braw and bienly clad,
And thy young years as nicely bred
Wi education,
As ony brat o wedlocks bed,
In a thy station.
Lord grant that thou may aye inherit
Thy mithers person, grace, an merit,
An thy poor, worthless daddys spirit,
Without his failins,
Twill please me mair to see thee heir it,
Than stockit mailens.
For if thou be what I wad hae thee,
And tak the counsel I shall gie thee,
Ill never rue my trouble wi thee,
The cost nor shame ot,
But be a loving father to thee,
And brag the name ot.
Poems by Robert Burns
