ANONYMOUS BALLADS OF THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES.
O waly,[73] waly up the bank, And waly, waly down the brae,[74] And waly, waly yon burn[75] side, Where I and my love wont to gae.
I lean'd my back unto an aik,[76] I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bow'd and syne[77] it brak, Sae my true love did lightly me.
O waly, waly but love be bonny, A little time while it is new; But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld, And fades away like the morning dew.
O wherefore should I busk[78] my head? Or wherefore should I kame[79] my hair? For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never love me mair.
Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed, The sheets shall ne'er be fyl'd by me; Saint Anton's well[80] shall be my drink, Sinn my true love has forsaken me.
Martinmas' wind, when wilt thou blaw And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I'm aweary.
'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing snow's inclemency; 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my love's heart grown cauld to me.
When we came in by Glasgow town We were a comely sight to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, And I myself in cramasie.[81]
But had I wist, before I kissed, That love had been sae ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case of gold, And pin'd it with a silver pin.
Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee, And I myself were dead and gane, And the green grass growing over me!
[Footnote 73: An exclamation of sorrow, woe! alas!] [Footnote 74: Hillside.] [Footnote 75: Brook.] [Footnote 76: Oak.] [Footnote 77: Then.] [Footnote 78: Adorn.] [Footnote 79: Comb.] [Footnote 80: At the foot of Arthur's-Seat, a cliff near Edinburgh.] [Footnote 81: Crimson.]
As I was walking all alane I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, "Where sail we gang and dine to-day?"
"In behint yon auld fail[83] dyke, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; And naebody kens that he lies there But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,[84] And I'll pick out his bonny blue een; Wi' ae[85] lock o' his gowden hair, We'll theck[86] our nest when it grows bare.