| 1 |
The king's young dochter was sitting in her window,
Sewing at her silken seam;
She lookt out o the bow-window,
And she saw the leaves growing green, my luve,
And she saw the leaves growing green. |
| 2 |
She stuck her needle into her sleeve,
Her seam down by her tae,
And she is awa to the merrie green-wood,
To pu the nit and slae. |
| 3 |
She hadna pu't a nit at a',
A nit but scarcely three,
Till out and spak a braw young man,
Saying, How daur ye bow the tree? |
| 4 |
'It's I will pu the nit,' she said,
'And I will bow the tree,
And I will come to the merrie green wud,
And na ax leive o thee.' |
| 5 |
He took her by the middle sae sma,
And laid her on the gerss sae green,
And he has taen his will o her,
And he loot her up agen. |
| 6 |
'Now syn ye hae got your will o me,
Pray tell to me your name;
For I am the king's young dochter,' she said,
'And this nicht I daurna gang hame.' |
| 7 |
'Gif ye be the king's dochter,' he said,
'I am his auldest son;
I wish I had died on some frem isle,
And never had come hame! |
| 8 |
'The first time I came hame, Jeanie,
Thou was na here nor born;
I wish my pretty ship had sunk,
And I had been forlorn! |
| 9 |
'The neist time I came hame, Jeanie,
Thou was sittin on the nourice knee;
And I wish my pretty ship had sunk,
And I had never seen thee! |
| 10 |
'And the neist time I came hame, Jeanie,
I met thee here alane;
I wish my pretty ship had sunk,
And I had neer come hame!' |
| 11 |
She put her hand down by her side,
And doun into her spare,
And she pou't out a wee pen-knife,
And she wounded hersell fu sair. |
| 12 |
Hooly, hooly rase she up,
And hooly she gade hame,
Until she came to her father's parlour,
And there she did sick and mane. |
| 13 |
'O sister, sister, mak my bed,
O the clean sheets and strae,
O sister, sister, mak my bed,
Down in the parlour below.' |
| 14 |
Her father he came tripping down the stair,
His steps they were fu slow;
'I think, I think, Lady Jean,' he said,
'Ye're lying far ower low.' |
| 15 |
'O late yestreen, as I came hame,
Down by yon castil wa,
O heavy, heavy was the stane
That on my briest did fa!' |
| 16 |
Her mother she came tripping doun the stair,
Her steps they were fu slow;
'I think, I think, Lady Jean,' she said,
'Ye're lying far ower low.' |
| 17 |
'O late yestreen, as I cam hame,
Down by yon castil wa,
O heavy, heavy was the stane
That on my breast did fa!' |
| 18 |
Her sister came tripping doun the stair,
Her steps they were fu slow;
'I think, I think, Lady Jean,' she said,
'Ye're lying far ower low.'
'O late yestreen, as I cam hame,
Doun by yon castil wa,
O heavy, heavy was the stane
That on my breast did fa!' |
| 19 |
Her brither he cam trippin doun the stair,
His steps they were fu slow;
He sank into his sister's arms,
And they died as white as snaw. |
