Jeanie's Distress

By William late offended,

I blam'd him, I allow

And then my anger ended,

And he is angry now.

And I in turn am chided,

For what I ne'er design'd;

And tho'by love misguided,

Am call'd myself unkind.

So now, when I am nigh him,

My looks must coldness wear;

They tell me I must fly him

At market and at fair;

Nor near the thorn-tree meet him,

At evening, I suppose,

Nor in the morning greet him,

As by the door he goes.

Nor at the kirk perceive him,

But ponder on my book;

With downcast eyes deceive him,

Tho' stealing oft a look.

Alas! How long must nature

This cruel war maintain?

Content in every feature,

While writhes my heart with pain?

O William, dost thou love me?

Oh! Sure I need not fear;

How, dearest, would it move thee

To see this falling tear!

Too heedless, thoughtless lover,

From what thyself must feel,

Why canst thou not discover,

What Jeanie must conceal?