| |
| O WALY, waly, up the bank, | |
| O waly, waly, doun the brae, | |
| And waly, waly, yon burn-side, | |
| Where I and my love were wont to gae! | |
| I leaned my back unto an aik, | 5 |
| I thocht it was a trustie tree, | |
| But first it bowed and syne it brak’,— | |
| Sae my true love did lichtlie me. | |
| |
| O waly, waly, but love be bonnie | |
| A little time while it is new! | 10 |
| But when it ’s auld it waxeth cauld, | |
| And fadeth awa’ like the morning dew. | |
| O wherefore should I busk my heid, | |
| Or wherefore should I kame my hair? | |
| For my true love has me forsook, | 15 |
| And says he ’ll never lo’e me mair. | |
| |
| Noo Arthur’s Seat sall be my bed, | |
| The sheets sall ne’er be pressed by me; | |
| Saint Anton’s well sall 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 wearie. | |
| |
| ’T is not the frost that freezes fell, | 25 |
| Nor blawing snaw’s inclemencie, | |
| ’T is not sic cauld that makes me cry; | |
| But my love’s heart grown cauld to me. | |
| When we cam’ in by Glasgow toun, | |
| We were a comely sicht to see; | 30 |
| My love was clad in the black velvet, | |
| An’ 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 o’ goud, | 35 |
| And pinn’d it wi’ a siller pin. | |
| Oh, oh! if my young babe were born, | |
| And set upon the nurse’s knee; | |
| And I mysel’ were dead and gane, | |
| And the green grass growing over me! | 40 |
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