Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 398.
From the recitation of Mrs. Storie, Lochwinnich.
| 1 |
Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Greitin and making grit mane,
When down by cam her father, saying,
What ails thee Rosie Ann? |
| 2 |
'A deal, a deal, dear father,' she said,
'Great reason hae I to mane,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between me and my brither John.' |
| 3 |
Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Weeping and making great mane,
And wha cam doun but her mither dear,
Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann? |
| 4 |
'A deal, a deal, dear mither,' she said,
'Great reason hae I to mane,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between me and my brither John.' |
| 5 |
Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Greiting and making great mane,
And wha came doun but her sister dear,
Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann? |
| 6 |
'A deal, a deal, dear sister,' she said,
'Great reason hae I to mane,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between me and my brither John.' |
| 7 |
Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Weeping and making great mane,
And wha cam doun but her fause, fause brither,
Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann? |
| 8 |
'A deal, a deal, dear brither,' she said,
'Great reason hae I to cry,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between yoursell and I.' |
| 9 |
'Weel ye hae tauld father, and ye hae tauld mither,
And ye hae tauld sister, a' three;'
Syne he pulled out his wee penknife,
And he cut her fair bodie in three. |
| 10 |
'O what blude is that on the point o your knife,
Dear son, come tell to me?'
'It is my horse's, that I did kill,
Dear mother and fair ladie.' |
| 11 |
'The blude o your horse was neer sae red,
Dear son, come tell to me:'
'It is my grandfather's, that I hae killed,
Dear mother and fair ladie.' |
| 12 |
'The blude o your grandfather was neer sae fresh,
Dear son, come tell to me:'
'It is my sister's, that I did kill,
Dear mother and fair ladie.' |
| 13 |
'What will ye do when your father comes hame,
Dear son, come tell to me?'
'I'll set my foot on yon shipboard,
And I hope she'll sail wi me.' |
| 14 |
'What will ye do wi your bonny bonny young wife,
Dear son, come tell to me?'
'I'll set her foot on some other ship,
And I hope she'll follow me.' |
| 15 |
'And what will ye do wi your wee son,
Dear son, come tell to me?'
'I'll leave him wi you, my dear mother,
To keep in remembrance of me.' |
| 16 |
'What will ye do wi your houses and lands,
Dear son, come tell to me?'
'I'll leave them wi you, my dear mother,
To keep my own babie.' |
| 17 |
'And whan will you return again,
Dear son, come tell to me?'
'When the sun and the mune meet on yon hill,
And I hope that'll neer be.' |
