A new song much in request, sung with its own proper tune.
Laing, Broadsides Ballads, No. 61, not dated but considered to
have been printed towards the end of the seven teenth or the
beginning of the eighteenth century, and probably at
Edinburgh.
| 1 |
Come lay me soft, and draw me near,
And lay thy white hand over me,
For I am starving in the cold,
And thou art bound to cover me. |
| 2 |
O cover me in my distress,
And help me in my miserie,
For I do wake when I should sleep,
All for the love of my dearie. |
| 3 |
My rents they are but very small
For to maintain my love withall,
But with my labour and my pain
I will maintain my love with them. |
| 4 |
O Arthur's Seat shall be my bed,
And the sheets shall never be fil'd for me,
St Anthony's well shall be my drink,
Since my true-love 's forsaken me. |
| 5 |
Should I be bound, that may go free?
Should I love them that loves not me?
I'le rather travel into Spain,
Where I 'le get love for love again. |
| 6 |
And I'le cast off my robs of black,
And will put on the robs of blue,
And I will to some other land
Till I see my love will on me rue. |
| 7 |
It 's not the cold that makes me cry,
Nor is "t the weet that wearies me,
Nor is 't the frost that freezes fell;
But I love a lad, and I dare not tell. |
| 8 |
O faith is gone and truth is past,
And my true-love 's forsaken me;
If all be true that I hear say,
I 'le mourn until the day I die. |
| 9 |
Oh, if I had nere been born
Than to have dy'd when I was young!
Then I had never wet my cheeks
For the love of any woman's son. |
| 10 |
Oh, oh, if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee,
And I my self were dead and gone!
For a maid again I 'le never be. |
| 11 |
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blow,
And blow the green leqfs off the tree
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come!
For of my life I am wearie. |
