| |
| O, WALY, waly up the bank, | |
| And waly, waly down the brae, | |
| And waly, waly yon burn-side, | |
| Where I and my love wont to gae. | |
| I leaned my back unto an aik, | 5 |
| And thought it was a trusty tree, | |
| But first it bowed, and syne it brak’, | |
| Sae my true-love did lightly me. | |
| |
| O, waly, waly, but love is bonny, | |
| A little time while it is new, | 10 |
| But when ’t is auld, it waxeth cauld, | |
| And fades away like morning dew. | |
| O, wherefore should I busk my head? | |
| Or wherefore should I kame my hair? | |
| For my true-love has me forsook, | 15 |
| And says he ’ll never love me mair. | |
| |
| Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed, | |
| The sheets shall ne’er be filed by me, | |
| Saint Anton’s well shall be my drink, | |
| Since my true-love ’s forsaken me. | 20 |
| 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 am weary. | |
| |
| ’T is not the frost that freezes fell, | 25 |
| Nor blowing snows inclemency; | |
| ’T is 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; | 30 |
| My love was clad in the black velvet, | |
| And I mysel’ in cramasie. | |
| |
| But had I wist before I kissed | |
| That love had been so ill to win, | |
| I ’d locked my heart in a case of gold, | 35 |
| And pinned it with a silver pin. | |
| And, O, if my young babe were born, | |
| And set upon the nurse’s knee, | |
| And I mysel’ were dead and gane, | |
| Wi’ the green grass growing over me! | 40 |
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