Page:Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics.djvu/102

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
86
Book
O waly waly, but love be bonny A little time while it is new; But when ’tis auld, it waxeth cauld And 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 blaw And shake the green leaves aff the tree? O gentle Death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I am wearíe.
’Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw’s inclemencie; ’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 velvét, 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! Anon.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.