Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
O WALY, waly, up the bank, | |
And waly, waly, doun the brae, | |
And waly, waly, yon burn-side, | |
Where I and my Love wont to gae! | |
I lean’d my back unto an aik, | 5 |
I thocht it was a trustie tree; | |
But first it bow’d and syne it brak— | |
Sae my true love did lichtlie me. | |
|
O waly, waly, gin love be bonnie | |
A little time while it is new! | 10 |
But when ’tis auld it waxeth cauld, | |
And fades awa’ like 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. | |
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Now Arthur’s Seat sall be my bed, | |
The sheets sall ne’er be ‘filed by me; | |
Saint Anton’s well sall be my drink; | |
Since my true Love has forsaken me. | 20 |
Marti’mas wind, when wilt thou blaw, | |
And shake the green leaves aff the tree? | |
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come? | |
For of my life I am wearìe. | |
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‘Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, | 25 |
Nor blawing snaw’s inclemencie, | |
‘Tis 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 velvèt, | |
And I mysel in cramasie. | |
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But had I wist, before I kist, | |
That love had been sae ill to win, | |
I had lock’d my heart in a case o’ gowd, | 35 |
And pinn’d it wi’ a siller pin. | |
And O! 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 |