Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, II, 7, 1802; 111,151, 1833.
| 1 |
'O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk,
Gin your feathering be sheen!'
'And waly, waly, my master dear,
Gin ye look pale and lean! |
| 2 |
'O have ye tint at tournament
Your sword, or yet your spear?
Or mourn ye for the southern lass,
Whom you may not win near?' |
| 3 |
'I have not tint at tournament
My sword, nor yet my spear,
But sair I mourn for my true-love,
Wi mony a bitter tear. |
| 4 |
'But weel's me on ye, my gay goss-hawk,
Ye can baith speak and flee;
Ye sall carry a letter to my love,
Bring an answer back to me.' |
| 5 |
'But how sall I your true-love find,
Or how suld I her know?
I bear a tongue neer wi her spake,
An eye that neer her saw.' |
| 6 |
'O weel sall ye my true-love ken,
Sae sune as ye her see,
For of a' the flowers of fair England,
The fairest flower is she. |
| 7 |
'The red that's on my true-love's cheik
Is like blood-drops on the snaw;
The white that is on her breast bare
Like the down o the white sea-maw. |
| 8 |
'And even at my love's bouer-door
There grows a flowering birk,
And ye maun sit and sing thereon,
As she gangs to the kirk. |
| 9 |
'And four-and-twenty fair ladyes
Will to the mass repair,
But weel may ye my ladye ken,
The fairest ladye there.' |
| 10 |
Lord William has written a love-letter,
Put it under his pinion gray,
And he is awa to southern land,
As fast as wings can gae. |
| 11 |
And even at that ladye's bour
There grew a flowering birk,
And he sat down and sang thereon,
As she gaed to the kirk. |
| 12 |
And weel he kent that ladye feir
Amang her maidens free,
For the flower that springs in May morning
Was not sae sweet as she. |
| 13 |
[He lighted at the ladye's yate,
And sat him on a pin,
And sang fu sweet the notes o love,
Till a' was cosh within.] |
| 14 |
And first he sang a low, low note,
And syne he sang a clear,
And aye the oerword of the sang
Was, Your love can no win here. |
| 15 |
'Feast on, feast on, my maidens a',
The wine flows you amang,
While I gang to my shot-window,
And hear yon bonny bird's sang. |
| 16 |
'Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,
The sang ye sung yestreen;
For weel I ken by your sweet singing
Ye are frae my true-love sen.' |
| 17 |
O first he sang a merry sang,
And syne he sang a grave,
And syne he peckd his feathers gray,
To her the letter gave. |
| 18 |
'Have there a letter from Lord William;
He says he's sent ye three;
He canna wait your love langer,
But for your sake he'll die.' |
| 19 |
'Gae bid him bake his bridal bread,
And brew his bridal ale,
And I sall meet him at Mary's kirk,
Lang, lang ere it be stale.' |
| 20 |
The lady's gane to her chamber,
And a moanfu woman was she,
As gin she had taen a sudden brash,
And were about to die. |
| 21 |
'A boon, a boon, my father deir,
A boon I beg of thee!'
'Ask not that paughty Scotish lord,
For him you neer shall see. |
| 22 |
'But, for your honest asking else,
Weel granted it shall be:'
'Then, gin I die in southern land,
In Scotland gar bury me. |
| 23 |
'And the first kirk that ye come to,
Ye's gar the mass be sung,
And the next kirk that ye come to,
Ye's gar the bells be rung. |
| 24 |
'And when ye come to St Mary's kirk,
Ye's tarry there till night:'
And so her father pledged his word,
And so his promise plight. |
| 25 |
She has taen her to her bigly bour,
As fast as she could fare,
And she has drank a sleepy draught,
That she had mixed wi care. |
| 26 |
And pale, pale grew her rosy cheek,
That was sae bright of blee,
And she seemed to be as surely dead
As any one could be. |
| 27 |
They drapt a drap o the burning red gowd,
They drapt it on her chin;
'And ever alas,' her mother cried,
'There is nae life within!' |
| 28 |
They drapt a drap o the burning red gowd,
They drapt it on her breast-bane;
'Alas,' her seven bauld brothers said,
'Our sister's dead and gane!' |
| 29 |
Then up arose her seven brethren,
And hewd to her a bier;
They hewd it frae the solid aik,
Laid it oer wi silver clear. |
| 30 |
Then up and gat her seven sisters,
And sewed to her a kell,
And every steek that they pat in
Sewd to a siller bell. |
| 31 |
The first Scots kirk that they cam to,
They gard the bells be rung;
The next Scots kirk that they cam to,
They gard the mass be sung. |
| 32 |
But when they cam to St Mary's kirk,
There stude spearmen all on raw,
And up and started Lord William,
The chieftane amang them a'. |
| 33 |
'Set down, set down the bier,' he said,
'Let me looke her upon:'
But as soon as Lord William touched her hand,
Her colour began to come. |
| 34 |
She brightened like the lily-flower,
Till her pale colour was gone;
With rosy cheek, and ruby lip,
She smiled her love upon. |
| 35 |
'A morsel of your bread, my lord,
And one glass of your wine,
For I hae fasted these three lang days,
All for your sake and mine. |
| 36 |
'Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers,
Gae hame and blaw your horn;
I trow you wad hae gien me the skaith,
But I've gien you the scorn. |
| 37 |
'Ah woe to you, you light woman,
An ill death may you die!
For we left father and mother at hame
Breaking their hearts for thee.' |
