Skene Manuscripts, No 8, p. 25. Sharpe's Ballad Book, ed.
Laing, p. 169.
| 1 |
I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
An a cow low down in yon glen;
Lang, lang will my young son greet
Or his mither bid him come ben. |
| 2 |
I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
An a cow low down in yon fauld;
Lang, lang will my young son greet
Or his mither take him frae cauld.
* * * * * |
| 3 |
. . . . .
. . . .
Waken, Queen of Elfan,
An hear your nourice moan.' |
| 4 |
'O moan ye for your meat,
Or moan ye for your fee,
Or moan ye for the ither bounties
That ladies are wont to gie?' |
| 5 |
'I moan na for my meat,
Nor moan I for my fee,
Nor moan I for the ither bounties
That ladies are wont to gie. |
| 6 |
. . . . .
. . . . .
But I moan for my young son
I left in four nights auld. |
| 7 |
'I moan na for my meat,
Nor yet for my fee,
But I mourn for Christen land,
It's there I fain would be.' |
| 8 |
'O nurse my bairn, nourice,' she says,
'Till he stan at your knee,
An ye's win hame to Christen land,
Whar fain it's ye wad be. |
| 9 |
'O keep my bairn, nourice,
Till he gang by the hauld,
An ye's win hame to your young son
Ye left in four nights auld.'
* * * * * |
| 10 |
'O nourice lay your head
Upo my knee:
See ye na that narrow road
Up by yon tree? |
| 11 |
. . . . . .
. . . . .
That's the road the righteous goes,
And that's the road to heaven. |
| 12 |
'An see na ye that braid road,
Down by yon sunny fell?
Yon's the road the wicked gae,
An that's the road to hell.'
* * * * * |
