Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts
"Ye sall hae your faith and troth,
Wi' God's blessing and mine:"
And twenty times she kissed his mouth, 85
Her father looking on.
Then out it speaks him gay William:
"Come here, sweet Marjorie;
Will ye gie me my faith and troth,
And love, as I gae thee?" 90
"Yes, ye sall hae your faith and troth,
Wi' God's blessing and mine:"
And twenty times she kissed his mouth,
Her father looking on.
* * * * *
"O ye'll tak aff your twa black hats, 95
Lay them down on a stone,
That nane may ken that ye are clerks,
Till ye are putten doun."
The bonnie clerks they died that morn;
Their loves died lang ere noon; 100
And the waefu' Clerk o' Owsenford
To his lady has gane hame.
PART SECOND.
His lady sat on her castle wa',
Beholding dale and doun;
And there she saw her ain gude lord
Come walking to the toun.
"Ye're welcome, ye're welcome, my ain gude lord, 5
Ye're welcome hame to me;
But where-away are my twa sons?
Ye suld hae brought them wi' ye."
"O they are putten to a deeper lear,
And to a higher scule: 10
Your ain twa sons will no be hame
Till the hallow days o' Yule."
"O sorrow, sorrow, come mak my bed;
And, dule, come lay me doun;
For I will neither eat nor drink, 15
Nor set a fit on groun'!"
The hallow days o' Yule were come,
And the nights were lang and mirk,
When in and cam her ain twa sons,
And their hats made o' the birk. 20
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheuch;
But at the gates o' Paradise
That birk grew fair eneuch.
"Blow up the fire, now, maidens mine, 25
Bring water from the well;
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my twa sons are well.
"O eat and drink, my merry-men a',
The better shall ye fare; 30
For my two sons they are come hame
To me for evermair."
And she has gane and made their bed,
She's made it saft and fine;
And she's happit them wi' her gay mantil, 35
Because they were her ain.
But the young cock crew in the merry Linkum,
And the wild fowl chirped for day;
And the aulder to the younger said,
"Brother, we maun away. 40
"The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin worm doth chide;
Gin we be missed out o' our place,
A sair pain we maun bide."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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