Ah, woe is me, my mother dear!
A man of strife ye've born me:
For sair contention I maun bear;
They hate, revile, and scorn me.
I ne'er could lend on bill or band,
That five per cent. might blest me;
And borrowing, on the tither hand,
The deil a ane wad trust me.
Yet I, a coin-denied wight,
By Fortune quite discarded;
Ye see how I am, day and night,
By lad and lass blackguarded!
Ah, Woe Is Me, My Mother Dear
Robert Burns
(1)
Poem topics: hate, mother, night, trust, dear, Valentine's Day, fortune, strife, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Ah, Woe Is Me, My Mother Dear is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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J Boyd: Not burns at his best but at his poorest in terms of money and debt