| 1 |
Lamkin was as good a mason
As ever liftit stane;
He built to the laird o Lariston,
But payment gat he nane. |
| 2 |
Oft he came, an ay he came,
To that good lord's yett,
But neither at dor nor window
Ony entrance could get. |
| 3 |
Till ae wae an weary day
Early he came,
An it fell out on that day
That good lord was frae hame. |
| 4 |
He bade steek dor an window,
An prick them to the gin,
Nor leave a little wee hole,
Else Lamkin wad be in. |
| 5 |
Noorice steekit dor an window,
She steekit them to the gin;
But she left a little wee hole
That Lamkin might win in. |
| 6 |
'O where's the lady o this house?'
Said cruel Lamkin;
'She's up the stair sleepin,'
Said fause noorice then. |
| 7 |
'How will we get her down the stair?'
Said cruel Lamkin;
'We'l stogg the baby i the cradle,'
Said fause noorice then. |
| 8 |
He stoggit, and she rockit,
Till a' the floor swam,
An a' the tors o the cradle
Red wi blude ran. |
| 9 |
'O still my son, noorise,
O still him wi the kane;'
'He winna still, madam,
Till Lariston come hame.' |
| 10 |
'O still my son, noorice,
O still him wi the knife;'
'I canna still him, madam,
If ye sude tak my life.' |
| 11 |
'O still my soon, noorice,
O still him wi the bell;'
'He winna still, madam,
Come see him yoursel.' |
| 12 |
Wae an weary rase she up,
Slowly pat her on
Her green claethin o the silk,
An slowly came she down. |
| 13 |
The first step she steppit,
It was on a stone;
The first body she saw
Was cruel Lamkin. |
| 14 |
'O pity, pity, Lamkin,
Hae pity on me!'
'Just as meikle pity, madam,
As ye paid me o my fee.' |
| 15 |
'I'll g' ye a peck o good red goud,
Streekit wi the wand;
An if that winna please ye,
I'll heap it wi my hand. |
| 16 |
'An if that winna please ye,
O goud an o fee,
I'll g' ye my eldest daughter,
Your wedded wife to be.' |
| 17 |
'Gae wash the bason, lady,
Gae wash't an mak it clean,
To kep your mother's heart's-blude,
For she's of noble kin.' |
| 18 |
'To kep my mother's heart's-blude
I wad be right wae;
O tak mysle, Lamkin,
An let my mother gae.' |
| 19 |
'Gae wash the bason, noorice,
Gae wash't an mak it clean,
To kep your lady's heart's-blude,
For she's o noble kin.' |
| 20 |
'To wash the bason, Lamkin,
I will be right glad,
For mony, mony bursen day
About her house I've had.' |
| 21 |
But oh, what dule an sorrow
Was about that lord's ha,
When he fand his lady lyin
As white as driven snaw! |
| 22 |
O what dule an sorrow
Whan that good lord cam in,
An fand his young son murderd,
I the chimley lyin! |
