| 1 |
She sat down below a thorn,
Fine flowers in the valley
And there she has her sweet babe born.
And the green leaves they grow rarely |
| 2 |
'Smile na sae sweet, my bonie babe,
Fine flowers in the valley
And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead.'
And the green leaves they grow rarely |
| 3 |
She's taen out her little pen-knife,
Fine flowers in the valley
And twinnd the sweet babe o its life.
And the green leaves they grow rarely |
| 4 |
She's howket a grave by the light o the moon,
Fine flowers in the valley
And there she's buried her sweet babe in.
And the green leaves they grow rarely |
| 5 |
As she was going to the church,
Fine flowers in the valley
She saw a sweet babe in the porch.
And the green leaves they grow rarely |
| 6 |
'O sweet babe, and thou were mine,
Fine flowers in the valley
I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine.'
And the green leaves they grow rarely |
| 7 |
'O mother dear, when I was thine,
Fine flowers in the valley
You did na prove to me sae kind.'
And the green leaves they grow rarely
* * * * * |
