Murison Manuscript, p. 105; Old Deer, Aberdeenshire.
| 1 |
Three lords sat drinking at the wine
I the bonny braes o Yarrow,
An there cam a dispute them between,
Who was the Flower o Yarrow. |
| 2 |
'I'm wedded to your sister dear,
Ye coont nae me your marrow;
I stole her fae her father's back,
An made her the Flower o Yarrow.' |
| 3 |
'Will ye try hearts, or will ye try hans,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?
Or will ye try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?' |
| 4 |
'I winna try hearts, I winna try hans,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow,
But I will try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.' |
| 5 |
'Ye'll stay at home, my own good lord,
Ye'll stay at home tomorrow;
My brethren three they will slay thee,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.' |
| 6 |
'Bonnie, bonnie shines the sun,
An early sings the sparrow;
Before the clock it will strinke nine
An I'll be home tomorrow.' |
| 7 |
She's kissed his mouth, an combed his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She's dressed him in his noble bow,
An he's awa to Yarrow. |
| 8 |
As he gaed up yon high, high hill,
An doon the dens o Yarrow,
An there he spied ten weel airmt men
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow. |
| 9 |
It's five he wounded, an five he slew,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow;
There cam a squire out o the bush,
An pierced his body thorough. |
| 10 |
'I dreamed a dream now sin the streen,
God keep us a' fae sorrow!
That my good lord was sleepin soun
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.' |
| 11 |
'O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,
An tak it not in sorrow;
I'll wed you wi as good a lord
As you've lost this day in Yarrow.' |
| 12 |
'O haud your tongue, my father dear,
An wed your sons wi sorrow;
For a fairer flower neer sprang in May nor June
Nor I've lost this day in Yarrow.' |
| 13 |
Fast did she gang, fast did she rin,
Until she cam to Yarrow,
An there she fan her own good lord,
He was sleepin soun in Yarrow. |
| 14 |
She's taen three lachters o her hair,
That hung doon her side sae bonny,
An she's tied roon his middle tight,
An she's carried him hame frae Yarrow. |
| 15 |
This lady being big wi child,
She was fu a grief an sorrow;
Her heart did break, and then she died,
She did not live till morrow. |
