Skene Manuscript, p. 30: taken down from recitation in the
north of Scotland, in 1802 or 1803.
| 1 |
'I was but seven year auld
When my mither she did die;
My father married the ae warst woman
The warld did ever see. |
| 2 |
'For she has made me the laily worm,
That lies at the fit o the tree,
An my sister Masery she's made
The machrel of the sea. |
| 3 |
'An every Saturday at noon
The machrel comes to me,
An she takes my laily head
An lays it on her knee,
She kaims it wi a siller kaim,
An washes't in the sea. |
| 4 |
'Seven knights hae I slain,
Sin I lay at the fit of the tree,
An ye war na my ain father,
The eight ane ye should be.' |
| 5 |
'Sing on your song, ye laily worm,
That ye did sing to me:'
'I never sung that song but what
I would it sing to thee. |
| 6 |
'I was but seven year auld,
When my mither she did die;
My father married the ae warst woman
The warld did ever see. |
| 7 |
'For she changed me to the laily worm,
That lies at the fit o the tree,
And my sister Masery
To the machrel of the sea. |
| 8 |
'And every Saturday at noon
The machrel comes to me,
An she takes my laily head
An lays it on her knee,
An kames it wi a siller kame,
An washes it i the sea. |
| 9 |
'Seven knights hae I slain,
Sin I lay at the fit o the tree,
An ye war na my ain father,
The eighth ane ye shoud be.' |
| 10 |
He sent for his lady,
As fast as send could he:
'Whar is my son that ye sent frae me,
And my daughter, Lady Masery?' |
| 11 |
'Your son is at our king's court,
Serving for meat an fee,
An your daughter's at our queen's court,
. . . . . ' |
| 12 |
'Ye lie, ye ill woman,
Sae loud as I hear ye lie;
My son's the laily worm,
That lies at the fit o the tree,
And my daughter, Lady Masery,
Is the machrel of the sea!' |
| 13 |
She has tane a siller wan,
An gien him strokes three,
And he has started up the bravest knight
That ever your eyes did see. |
| 14 |
She has taen a small horn,
An loud an shrill blew she,
An a' the fish came her untill
But the proud machrel of the sea:
'Ye shapeit me ance an unseemly shape,
An ye's never mare shape me.' |
| 15 |
He has sent to the wood
For whins and for hawthorn,
An he has taen that gay lady,
An there he did her burn. |
