C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Mary Hamilton
By The Ballad
1.
WORD’S gane to the kitchen, | And word’s gane to the ha’, | That Marie Hamilton has born a bairn | To the highest Stewart of a’. 2. | She’s tyed it in her apron | And she’s thrown it in the sea; | Says, “Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe, | You’ll ne’er get mair o’ me.” 3. | Down then cam the auld Queen, | Goud tassels tying her hair: | “O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babe | That I heard greet sae sair?” 4. | “There was never a babe intill my room, | As little designs to be; | It was but a touch o’ my sair side, | Came o’er my fair bodie.” 5. | “O Marie, put on your robes o’ black, | Or else your robes o’ brown, | For ye maun gang wi’ me the night, | To see fair Edinbro town.” 6. | “I winna put on my robes o’ black, | Nor yet my robes o’ brown; | But I’ll put on my robes o’ white, | To shine through Edinbro town.” 7. | When she gaed up the Cannogate, | She laugh’d loud laughters three; | But when she cam down the Cannogate | The tear blinded her ee. 8. | When she gaed up the Parliament stair, | The heel cam aff her shee; | And lang or she cam down again | She was condemn’d to dee. 9. | When she cam down the Cannogate, | The Cannogate sae free, | Many a ladie look’d o’er her window, | Weeping for this ladie. 10. | “Make never meen for me,” she says, | “Make never meen for me; | Seek never grace frae a graceless face, | For that ye’ll never see. 11. | “Bring me a bottle of wine,” she says, | “The best that e’er ye hae, | That I may drink to my weil-wishers, | And they may drink to me. 12. | “And here’s to the jolly sailor lad | That sails upon the faem; | But let not my father nor mother get wit | But that I shall come again. 13. | “And here’s to the jolly sailor lad | That sails upon the sea; | But let not my father nor mother get wit | O’ the death that I maun dee. 14. | “Oh little did my mother think, | The day she cradled me, | What lands I was to travel through, | What death I was to dee. 15. | “Oh little did my father think, | The day he held up me, | What lands I was to travel through, | What death I was to dee. 16. | “Last night I wash’d the Queen’s feet, | And gently laid her down; | And a’ the thanks I’ve gotten the nicht | To be hangd in Edinbro town! 17. | “Last nicht there was four Maries, | The nicht there’ll be but three; | There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton, | And Marie Carmichael, and me.”
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