Frances Shaw

MY cryin’ baby of a World

I’ve left behind today—

I would na mither it for a’

The red jew’ls of Cathay!

For I am breasted to the moors

And skirted for the sea—

That cryin’ baby of a World,

It shan’t come botherin’ me!

I will not even stop to find

What ye’re a-cryin’ for—

A-wailin’ and a-scrappin’,

And a-callin’ of it “War.”

I’m off, and breasted to the moors

And skirted for the sea

To get a slice o’ God’s Peace

And bring it home with me.

……..

There’s somethin’ tuggin’ at my skirt

Whichiver way I wind,

And somethin’ cryin’ in my ear

That won’t be left behind.

Oh hush ye, hush ye, darlint—

I was foolin’ of ye quite:

Yer mither’s comin’ back to ye

To tuck ye in this night.