P. 160 ff., 522 ff.
Findlay's Manuscripts, I, 181; The Dowie Dens o Yarrow, "from
Banffshire, through James Milne, Arbroath."
| 1 |
There lived a lady in the South,
Ye would scarcely find her marrow;
She was courted by nine gentlemen
An a ploughman-lad frae Yarrow. |
| 2 |
Ae nicht the nine sat drinkin wine
To the lass wha had nae marrow,
When the ploughman swore, tho they were a score
He wad fecht them a' in Yarrow. |
| 3 |
It's he's gane ower yon high, high hill,
And doon yon glen sae narrow,
An there he saw nine armed men,
To fecht wi him in Yarrow. |
| 4 |
'There's nine o you an I'm but ane,
An that's an unequal marrow,
But wi this gude blade and powerfu arm
I'll lay you low on Yarrow.' |
| 5 |
It's three he slew, and three withdrew,
And three lay dead on Yarrow,
But in behind cam her brother John,
An pierced his body thorough. |
| 6 |
'Gae hame, gae hame, you fause young man,
An tell your sister sorrow,
That her true-love John lies dead and gone
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.' |
| 7 |
'O father dear, I've dreamed a dream,
I'm feared it will prove sorrow;
I dreamed I was puin the heather-bells sweet
On the bonny braes o Yarrow.' |
| 8 |
'O daughter dear, your dream is read,
I'm feared it will prove sorrow;
Your true-love John lies dead and gone
In the dowie dens o Yarrow.' |
| 9 |
It's she's gane ower yon high, high hill,
An doon yon glen sae narrow,
An there she saw her true-love John
Lyin cauld an dead on Yarrow. |
| 10 |
She washed his face an combed his hair,
Wi muckle grief an sorrow,
She rowed him i the plaid she wore,
In the dowie dens o Yarrow. |
| 11 |
Her hair it was three quarters lang,
The colour being yellow;
She tied it round his middle sma,
An carried him hame frae Yarrow. |
| 12 |
'O daughter dear, I pray forbear,
I'll wed you to another marrow;
I'll wed you to some fitter match
Than the lad that died on Yarrow.' |
| 13 |
'O father dear, you hae seven sons,
Should you wed them a' to-morrow,
A fairer flower never grew in June
Than the lad that died on Yarrow.' |
| 14 |
This lady, being six months with child
To the ploughman lad of Yarrow,
She fell into her father's arms
An died wi grief on Yarrow. |
