Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 498;
Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 370.
From the recitation of Mrs. Notman, then far advanced in years,
with whose grandmother it was a favorite: September 9, 1826.
| 1 |
Willie was a widow's son,
And he wore a milk-white weed, O
And weel could Willie read and write,
Far better ride on steed. O |
| 2 |
Lady Margerie was the first lady
That drank to him the wine,
And aye as the healths gade round and round,
'Laddy, your love is mine.' |
| 3 |
Lady Margerie was the first ladye
That drank to him the beer,
And aye as the healths gade round and round,
'Laddy, you're welcome here.' |
| 4 |
'You must come into my bower
When the evening bells do ring,
And you must come into my bower
When the evening mass doth sing.' |
| 5 |
He's taen four and twenty braid arrows,
And laced them in a whang,
And he's awa to Lady Margerie's bower,
As fast as he can gang. |
| 6 |
He set ae foot on the wall,
And the other on a stane,
And he's killed a' the king's life-guards,
And he's killed them every man. |
| 7 |
'Oh open, open, Lady Margerie,
Open and let me in;
The weet weets a' my yellow hair,
And the dew draps on my chin.' |
| 8 |
With her feet as white as sleet
She strode her bower within,
And with her fingers long and small
She's looten Sweet Willie in. |
| 9 |
She's louten down unto her foot
To loose Sweet Willie's shoon;
The buckles were sa stiff they wudna lowse,
The blood had frozen in. |
| 10 |
'O Willie, Willie, I fear that thou
Has bred me dule and sorrow;
The deed that thou has dune this nicht
Will kythe upon the morrow.' |
| 11 |
In then came her father dear,
And a broad sword by his gare,
And he's gien Willie, the widow's son,
A deep wound and a sair. |
| 12 |
'Lye yont, lye yont, Willie,' she says,
'Your sweat weets a' my side;
Lye yont, lie yont, Willie,' she says,
'For your sweat I downa bide.' |
| 13 |
She turned her back unto the wa,
Her face unto the room,
And there she saw her auld father,
Walking up and down. |
| 14 |
'Woe be to you, father,' she said,
'And an ill deed may you die!
For ye've killd Willie, the widow's son
And he would have married me.' |
| 15 |
She turned her back unto the room,
Her face unto the wa,
And with a deep and heavy sich
Her heart it brak in twa. |
