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?