| |
| IT’S 1 narrow, narrow, make your bed, | |
| And learn to lie your lane; | |
| For I’m ga’n oer the sea, Fair Annie, | |
| A braw bride to bring hame. | |
| Wi’ her I will get gowd and gear; | 5 |
| Wi’ you I neer got nane. | |
| |
| ‘But wha will bake my bridal bread, | |
| Or brew my bridal ale? | |
| And wha will welcome my brisk bride, | |
| That I bring oer the dale? | 10 |
| |
| ‘But she that welcomes my brisk bride | |
| Maun gang like maiden fair; | |
| She maun lace on her robe sae jimp, | |
| And braid her yellow hair.’ 2 | |
| |
| ‘But how can I gang maiden-like, | 15 |
| When maiden I am nane? | |
| Have I not born seven sons to thee, | |
| And am with child again?’ | |
| |
| She’s taen her young son in her arms, | |
| Another in her hand, | 20 |
| And she’s up to the highest tower, | |
| To see him come to land. | |
| |
| ‘Come up, come up, my eldest son, | |
| And look oer yon sea-strand, | |
| And see your father’s new-come bride, | 25 |
| Before she come to land.’ | |
| |
| ‘Come down, come down, my mother dear, | |
| Come frae the castle wa! | |
| I fear, if langer ye stand there, | |
| Ye’ll let yoursell down fa’. | 30 |
| |
| And she gaed down, and farther down, | |
| Her love’s ship for to see, | |
| And the topmast and the mainmast | |
| Shone like the silver free. | |
| |
| And she’s gane down, and farther down, | 35 |
| The bride’s ship to behold, | |
| And the topmast and the mainmast | |
| They shone just like the gold. | |
| |
| She’s taen her seven sons in her hand, | |
| I wot she didna fail; | 40 |
| She met Lord Thomas and his bride, | |
| As they came oer the dale. | |
| |
| ‘You’re welcome to your house, Lord Thomas, | |
| You’re welcome to your land; | |
| You’re welcome with your fair ladye, | 45 |
| That you lead by the hand. | |
| |
| ‘You’re welcome to your ha’s, ladye, | |
| You’re welcome to your bowers; | |
| You’re welcome to your hame, ladye, | |
| For a’ that’s here is yours.’ | 50 |
| |
| ‘I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, Annie, | |
| Sae dearly as I thank thee; | |
| You’re the likest to my sister Annie, | |
| That ever I did see. | |
| |
| ‘There came a knight out oer the sea, | 55 |
| And steald my sister away; | |
| And shame scoup in his company, | |
| And land where’er he gae!’ | |
| |
| She hang ae napkin at the door, | |
| Another in the ha, | 60 |
| And a’ to wipe the trickling tears, | |
| Sae fast as they did fa. | |
| |
| And aye she served the lang tables | |
| With white bread and with wine, | |
| And aye she drank the wan water, | 65 |
| To had her colour fine. | |
| |
| And aye she served the lang tables, | |
| With white bread and with brown; | |
| And ay she turned her round about, | |
| Sae fast the tears fell down. | 70 |
| |
| And he’s taen down the silken napkin, | |
| Hung on a silver pin, | |
| And aye he wipes the tear trickling | |
| Adown her cheek and chin. | |
| |
| And aye he turn’d him round about, | 75 |
| And smiled amang his men; | |
| Says, ‘Like ye best the old ladye, | |
| Or her that’s new come hame?’ | |
| |
| When bells were rung, and mass was sung, | |
| And a’ men bound to bed, | 80 |
| Lord Thomas and his new-come bride | |
| To their chamber they were gaed. | |
| |
| Annie made her bed a little forbye, | |
| To hear what they might say; | |
| ‘And ever alas!’ Fair Annie cried, | 85 |
| ‘That I should see this day! | |
| |
| ‘Gin my seven sons were seven young rats, | |
| Running on the castle wa, | |
| And I were a grey cat mysell, | |
| I soon would worry them a’. | 90 |
| |
| ‘Gin my young sons were seven young hares, | |
| Running oer yon lilly lee, | |
| And I were a grew hound mysell, | |
| Soon worried they a’ should be.’ | |
| |
| And wae and sad Fair Annie sat, | 95 |
| And drearie was her sang, | |
| And ever, as she sobbd and grat, | |
| ‘Wae to the man that did the wrang!’ | |
| |
| ‘My gown is on,’ said the new-come bride, | |
| ‘My shoes are on my feet, | 100 |
| And I will to Fair Annie’s chamber, | |
| And see what gars her greet. | |
| |
| ‘What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie, | |
| That ye make sic a moan? | |
| Has your wine-barrels cast the girds, | 105 |
| Or is your white bread gone? | |
| |
| ‘O wha was’t was your father, Annie, | |
| Or wha was’t was your mother? | |
| And had ye ony sister, Annie, | |
| Or had ye ony brother?’ | 110 |
| |
| ‘The Earl of Wemyss was my father, | |
| The Countess of Wemyss my mother; | |
| And a’ the folk about the house | |
| To me were sister and brother.’ | |
| |
| ‘If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, | 115 |
| I wot sae was he mine; | |
| And it shall not be for lack o’ gowd | |
| That ye your love sall tyne. | |
| |
| ‘For I have seven ships o’ mine ain, | |
| A’ loaded to the brim, | 120 |
| And I will gie them a’ to thee | |
| Wi’ four to thine eldest son; | |
| But thanks to a’ the powers in heaven | |
| That I gae maiden hame!’ | |
