J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921.
By Jane Elliot (17271805)A Lament for Flodden
I
Lasses a’ lilting before dawn o’ day;
But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning,
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away.
Lasses are lonely and dowie and wae;
Nae daffing, nae gabbing, but sighing and sabbing,
Ilk ane lifts her leglin and hies her away.
The bandsters are lyart, and runkled and grey;
At fair or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching,
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away.
’Bout stacks wi’ the lasses at bogle to play;
But ilk maid sits eerie, lamenting her dearie,
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away.
The English, for ance, by guile won the day;
The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land, lie cauld in the clay.
Women and bairns are heartless and wae;
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning,
The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away.