Anonymous
¶189 O Waly, Waly0 WALY waly up the bank.And waly waly down the brae,And waly waly yon burn-sideWhere I and my Love wont to gae!I leant my back unto an aik,I thought it was a trusty tree;But first it bow'd, and syne' it brak,Sae my true Love did lichtly'' me.
¶O waly waly, but love be bonnyA little time while it is new;But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauldAnd fades awa' like morning dew.O wherefore should I busk' my head?Or wherefore should I kame^ my hair?For my true Love has me forsook,And says he'll never loe me mair.
¶Now Arthur-seat sail be my bed;The sheets shall ne'er be prest by me:Saint Anton's well sail be my drink,Since my true Love has forsaken me.Marti'mas wind, when wilt thou blawAnd shake the green leaves afl the tree?O gentle Death, when wilt thou come?For of my life I am wearie.
¶'Tis not the frost, that freezes fell.Now blawing snaw's inclemencie;'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry.But my Love's heart grown cauld to me.■Then. 2 Slight. 3 Adorn. »Comb.[324]When we came in by Glasgow townWe were a comely sight to see;My Love was clad in the black velvet,And I mysell in cramasie.'
¶But had I wist, before I kist.That love had been sae ill to win;I had lockt my heart in a case of gowd'And pinn'd it with a siller' pin.And, O! if my young babe were born,And set upon the nurse's knee.And I mysell were dead and gane,And the green grass growing over me!
¶/90 Helen of KirconnellI WISH I were where Helen lies;Night and day on me she cries;O that I were where Helen liesOn fair Kirconnell lea!
¶Curst be the heart that thought the thought,And curst the hand that fired the shot.When in my arms burd Helen dropt,And died to succour mc!
¶0 think na but my heart was sairWhen my Love dropt down and spak nae mairlI laid her down wi' meikle careOn fair Kirconnell lea.
¶As I went down the water-side.None but my foe to be my guide,None but my foe to be my guide.On fair Kirconnell lea;
¶I lighted down my sword to draw,I hacked him in pieces sma',I hacked him in pieces sma',For her sake that died for me.' Crimson cloth. ^ Gold. ' Silver.[325]O Helen fair, beyond compare!I'll make a garland of thy hairShall bind my heart for evermairUntil the day I die.
¶O that I were where Helen lies!Night and day on me she cries;Out of my bed she bids me rise,Says, 'Haste and come to mel'
¶0 Helen fair! O Helen chaste!If I were with thee, I were blest,Where thou lies low and takes thy restOn fair Kirconnell lea.
¶I wish my grave were growing green,A winding-sheet drawn ower my een,And I in Helen's arms lying,On fair Kirconnell lea.
¶I wish I were where Helen lies;Night and day on me she cries;And I am weary of the skies,Since my Love died for m c .
My Love in Her Attire
¶MY Love in her attire doth shew her wit,It doth so well become her:For every season she hath dressings fit,For Winter, Spring, and Summer.No beauty she doth missWhen all her robes are on:But Beauty's self she isWhen all her robes are gone.
Love Not Me
¶LOVE not me for comely grace,For my pleasing eye or face,Nor for any outward part,[326]No , nor for my constant heart,—For those may fail, or turn to ill,So thou and I shall sever:Keep therefore a true woman's eye,And love me still, but know not why —So hast thou the same reason stillTo doat upon me ever!