Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,
No. 146 a, Abbotsford.
| 1 |
'O waly, waly, my gay goss-bawk,
Gin your feathering be sheen!'
'O waly, waly, my master dear,
Gin ye look pale and lean! |
| 2 |
'Whether is it for the gold sae rid,
Or is it for the silver clear?
Or is it for the lass in southen land,
That she cannot win here.' |
| 3 |
'It is not for the gold sae rid,
Nor is it for the silver clear,
But it is for the lass in southen land,
That she cannot win her[e].' |
| 4 |
'Sit down, sit down, my master dear,
Write a love-letter hastily,
And put it in under my feathern gray,
And I'll away to southen land as fast as I can flee.
|
| 5 |
'But how shall I your true-love ken?
Or how shall I her know?
I bear the tongue never wi her spake,
The eye that never her saw.' |
| 6 |
'The red that is in my love's cheek
Is like blood spilt amang the snaw;
The white that is on her breast-bone
Is like the down on the white sea-maw. |
| 7 |
'There 's one that stands at my love's gate
And opens the silver pin,
And there ye may safely set ye on
And sing a lovely song. |
| 8 |
'First ye may sing it loud, loud, loud,
And then ye may sing it clear,
And ay the oerword of the tune
Is, Your love cannot win here.' |
| 9 |
He has written a love-letter,
Put it under his feathern gray,
And he 's awa to southen laud,
As fast as ever he may. |
| 10 |
When he came to the lady's gate,
There he lighted down,
And there he sat him on the pin
And sang a lovely song. |
| 11 |
First he sang it loud, loud, loud,
And then he sang it clear,
And ay the oerword of the tune
Was, Your love cannot win here. |
| 12 |
'Hold your tongues, my merry maids all,
And hold them a little while;
I hear some word from my true-love,
That lives in Scotland's isle.' |
| 13 |
Up she rose, to the door she goes,
To hear what the bird woud say,
And he's let the love-letter fall
From under his feathern gray. |
| 14 |
When she looked the letter on,
The tear blinded her eye,
And when she read it oer and oer
A loud laughter took she. |
| 15 |
'Go hame, go hame, my bonny bird,
And to your master tell,
If I be nae wi him at Martinmass,
I shall be wi him at Yule.' |
| 16 |
The lady's to her chamber gane.
And a sick woman grew she;
The lady's taen a sudden brash,
And nathing she'll do but die. |
| 17 |
'An asking, an asking, my father dear,
An asking grant to me!
If that I die in southen land,
In Scotland bury me.' |
| 18 |
'Ask on, ask on, my daughter dear,
That asking is granted thee;
If that you die in southen land,
In Scotland I'll bury thee.' |
| 19 |
'Gar call to me my seven bretheren,
To hew to me my bier,
The one half of the beaten gold,
The other of the silver clear. |
| 20 |
'Go call to me my seven sisters,
To sew to me my caul;
Every needle-steik that they put in
Put by a silver bell.' |
| 21 |
The first Scots kirk that they came to,
They heard the mavis sing;
The next Scots kirk that they came to,
They heard the dead-bell ring. |
| 22 |
The next Scots kirk that they came to,
They were playing at the foot-ball,
And her true-love was them among,
The chieftian amangst them all. |
| 23 |
'Set down, set down these corps,' said he,
'Let me look them upon;'
As soon as he lookd the lady on,
The blood sprang in her chin. |
| 24 |
'One bite of your bread, my love,
And one glass of your wine!
For I have fasted these five long days,
All for your sake and mine. |
| 25 |
'Go hame, go hame, my seven brothers,
Go hame and blaw your horn,
And ye may tell thro southen land
How I playd you the scorn.' |
| 26 |
'Woe to you, my sister dear,
And ane ill death may you die!
For we left father aud mother at hame
Breaking their heart for thee.' |
