Grace I

Because she raises diamond eyes
And smiles, and brushes back her hair
There will nae harm befall her
Though she be a stranger here

The air seems warm and golden
In the space beyond her table
Shadows cast their purple pools
And evening bids to turn to night

Yet round her peaceful face
Still seems to hang a little light
Lest any passing fail to see
And rest a poorer man tonight

The common garb of laborers
Conceals her slender frame
But ’tis borne tha’ proud an’ humble
That it canna do her shame

Sure ’tis you’ll wish to courtin’ be
And every man the like
But no one’s able ta draw near
Her glance can paralyze a man ‘ere
He has even left his chair!

Oh, ay ~ I’ve seen the type a time or two
She’ll solitary board and bed
An’ then she’ll off an’ on her way
But a spot of warm like sunshine
She will leave inside yer head


One thought on “Grace I

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