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“The Lang Coortin’” by Lewis Carroll 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 (27 Jan 1832 – 14 Jan 1898)
The ladye she stood at her lattice high,
Wi’ her doggie at her feet;
Thorough the lattice she can spy
The passers in the street,
​
“There’s one that standeth at the door,
And tirleth at the pin:
Now speak and say, my popinjay,
If I sall let him in.”
​
Then up and spake the popinjay
That flew abune her head:
“Gae let him in that tirls the pin:
He cometh thee to wed.”
​
O when he cam’ the parlour in,
A woeful man was he!
“And dinna ye ken your lover agen,
Sae well that loveth thee?”
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“And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir,
That have been sae lang away?
And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir?
Ye never telled me sae.”
​
Said—“Ladye dear,” and the salt, salt tear
Cam’ rinnin’ doon his cheek,
“I have sent the tokens of my love
This many and many a week.”
​
“O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,
The rings o’ the gowd sae fine?
I wot that I have sent to thee
Four score, four score and nine.”
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“They cam’ to me,” said that fair ladye.
“Wow, they were flimsie things!”
Said—“that chain o’ gowd, my doggie to howd,
It is made o’ thae self-same rings.”
​
“And didna ye get the locks, the locks,
The locks o’ my ain black hair,
Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,
Whilk I sent by the carrier?”
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“They cam’ to me,” said that fair ladye;
“And I prithee send nae mair!”
Said—“that cushion sae red, for my doggie’s head,
It is stuffed wi’ thae locks o’ hair.”
​
“And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,
Tied wi’ a silken string,
Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie,
A message of love to bring?”
​
“It cam’ to me frae the far countrie
Wi’ its silken string and a’;
But it wasna prepaid,” said that high-born maid,
“Sae I gar’d them tak’ it awa’.”
​
“O ever alack that ye sent it back,
It was written sae clerkly and well!
Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought,
I must even say it mysel’.”
​
Then up and spake the popinjay,
Sae wisely counselled he.
“Now say it in the proper way:
Gae doon upon thy knee!”
​
The lover he turned baith red and pale,
Went doon upon his knee:
“O Ladye, hear the waesome tale
That must be told to thee!”
​
“For five lang years, and five lang years,
I coorted thee by looks;
By nods and winks, by smiles and tears,
As I had read in books.”
​
“For ten lang years, O weary hours!
I coorted thee by signs;
By sending game, by sending flowers,
By sending Valentines.”
​
“For five lang years, and five lang years,
I have dwelt in the far countrie,
Till that thy mind should be inclined
Mair tenderly to me.”
​
“Now thirty years are gane and past,
I am come frae a foreign land:
I am come to tell thee my love at last—
O Ladye, gie me thy hand!”
​
The ladye she turned not pale nor red,
But she smiled a pitiful smile:
“Sic’ a coortin’ as yours, my man,” she said
“Takes a lang and a weary while!”
​
And out and laughed the popinjay,
A laugh of bitter scorn:
“A coortin’ done in sic’ a way,
It ought not to be borne!”
​
Wi’ that the doggie barked aloud,
And up and doon he ran,
And tugged and strained his chain o’ gowd,
All for to bite the man.
​
“O hush thee, gentle popinjay!
O hush thee, doggie dear!
There is a word I fain wad say,
It needeth he should hear!”
​
Aye louder screamed that ladye fair
To drown her doggie’s bark:
Ever the lover shouted mair
To make that ladye hark:
​
Shrill and more shrill the popinjay
Upraised his angry squall:
I trow the doggie’s voice that day
Was louder than them all!
​
The serving-men and serving-maids
Sat by the kitchen fire:
They heard sic’ a din the parlour within
As made them much admire.
​
Out spake the boy in buttons
(I ween he wasna thin),
“Now wha will tae the parlour gae,
And stay this deadlie din?”
​
And they have taen a kerchief,
Casted their kevils in,
For wha will tae the parlour gae,
And stay that deadlie din.
​
When on that boy the kevil fell
To stay the fearsome noise,
“Gae in,” they cried, “whate’er betide,
Thou prince of button-boys!”
​
Syne, he has taen a supple cane
To swinge that dog sae fat:
The doggie yowled, the doggie howled
The louder aye for that.
​
Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane—
The doggie ceased his noise,
And followed doon the kitchen stair
That prince of button-boys!
​
Then sadly spake that ladye fair,
Wi’ a frown upon her brow:
“O dearer to me is my sma’ doggie
Than a dozen sic’ as thou!”
​
“Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:
Nae use at all to fret:
Sin’ ye’ve bided sae well for thirty years,
Ye may bide a wee langer yet!”
​
Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor
And tirled at the pin:
Sadly went he through the door
Where sadly he cam’ in.
​
“O gin I had a popinjay
To fly abune my head,
To tell me what I ought to say,
I had by this been wed.”
​
“O gin I find anither ladye,”
He said wi’ sighs and tears,
“I wot my coortin’ sall not be
Anither thirty years”
​
“For gin I find a ladye gay,
Exactly to my taste,
I’ll pop the question, aye or nay,
In twenty years at maist.”