| 1 |
'My luve she lives in Lincolnshire,
I wat she's neither black nor broun,
But her hair is like the thread o gowd,
Aye an it waur weel kaim d doun.' |
| 2 |
She's pued the black mask owre her face,
An blinkit gaily wi her ee:
'O will you to my weddin come,
An will you bear me gude companie?' |
| 3 |
'I winna to your weddin come,
Nor [will] I bear you gude companie,
Unless you be the bride yoursell,
An me the bridegroom to be.' |
| 4 |
'For me to be the bride mysel,
An you the bonnie bridegroom to be —
Cheer up you heart, Sweet Willie,' she said,
'For that's the day you'll never see. |
| 5 |
'Gin you waur on your saddle set,
An gaily ridin on the way,
You'll hae nae mair mind o Alison
Than she waur dead an laid in clay.' |
| 6 |
When he was on his saiddle set,
An slowly ridin on the way,
He had mair mind o Alison
Than he had o the licht o day. |
| 7 |
He saw a hart draw near a hare,
An aye that hare drew near a toun,
An that same hart did get a hare,
But the gentle knicht got neer a toun. |
| 8 |
He leant him owre his saiddle-bow,
An his heart did brak in pieces three;
Wi sighen said him Sweet Willie,
'The pains o luve hae taen hald o me.' |
| 9 |
. . . .
. . . .
There cam a white horse an a letter,
That stopped the weddin speidilie. |
| 10 |
She leant her back on her bed-side,
An her heart did brak in pieces three;
She was buried an bemoaned,
But the birds waur Willie's companie. |
