Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 507; from the recitation of old Mrs.
Brown, residing at Linsart, parish of Lochwinnoch, September, 1826.
| 1 |
Waly, waly up yon bank!
And waly, waly up yon brae!
And waly, waly by yon river-side,
Where me and my love were wont to gae! |
| 2 |
My mither tauld me when I was young
That young men's love was ill to trow;
But to her I would give nae ear,
And alas! my ain wand dings me now. |
| 3 |
'But gin I had wist or I had kisst
That young man's love was sae ill to win,
I would hae lockt my heart wi a key o gowd,
And pinnd it wi a sillar pin. |
| 4 |
When lairds and lords cam to this toun,
And gentlemen o a high degree,
I took my auld son in my arms,
And went to my chamber pleasantly. |
| 5 |
But when gentlemen come thro this toun,
And gentlemen o a high degree,
I must sit alane in the dark,
And the babie on the nurse's knee. |
| 6 |
I had a nurse, and she was fair,
She was a dearly nurse to me;
She took my gay lord frae my side,
And used him in her company. |
| 7 |
Awa! awa, thou false Blackwood!
Ay and an ill death may thou die!
Thou wast the first occasioner
Of parting my gay lord and me. |
| 8 |
When I was sick, and very sick,
Sick I was, and like to die,
I drew me near to my stair-head,
And I heard my own lord lichtly me. |
| 9 |
'Come doun, come doun, thou Earl of March,
Come doun, come doun and dine with me;
I'll set thee on a chair of gowd,
And treat thee kindly on my knee!' |
| 10 |
'When cockle-shells grow sillar bells,
And mussells grow on every tree,
When frost and snaw turns fiery ba's,
Then I'll come doun and dine with thee.' |
| 11 |
When my father and mother got word
That my gay lord had forsaken me,
They sent three score of soldiers bold
To bring me to my own countrie. |
| 12 |
When I in my coach was set,
My tenants all was with me tane;
They set them doun upon their knees,
And they begd me to come back again. |
| 13 |
Fare ye weel, Jamie Douglas!
And fare ye weel, my babies three!
I wish your father may be kind
To these three faces that I do see. |
| 14 |
When we cam in by Edinbro toun,
My father and mother they met me;
The cymbals sounded on every side,
But alace! the gave no comfort to me. |
| 15 |
'Hold your tongue, my daughter dear,
And of your weeping let abee,
And I'll give him a bill of divorce,
And I'll get as good a lord to thee.' |
| 16 |
'Hold your tongue, my father dear,
And of your scoffing let me bee;
I would rather hae a kiss of my own lord's mouth
As all the lords in the north countrie.' |
