Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts
Some put on the gay green robes,
And some put on the brown; 80
But Janet put on the scarlet robes,
To shine foremost through the town.
And some they mounted the black steed,
And some mounted the brown;
But Janet mounted the milk-white steed, 85
To ride foremost through the town.
"O wha will guide your horse, Janet?
O wha will guide him best?"
"O wha but Willie, my true love,
He kens I lo'e him best!" 90
And when they cam to Marie's kirk,
To tye the haly ban,
Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan,
And her colour gaed and cam.
When dinner it was past and done, 95
And dancing to begin,
"O we'll go take the bride's maidens,
And we'll go fill the ring."
O ben than cam the auld French lord,
Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?"
"Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord, 100
Your face I downa see."
O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,
He cam with ane advance:
"O I'll go tak the bride's maidens, 105
And we'll go tak a dance."
"I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie,
And so has mony mae;
Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel',
Let a' my maidens gae." 110
O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,
Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?"
"Aye, by my sooth, and that I will,
Gin my back should break in three."
[And she's ta'en Willie by the hand, 115
The tear blinded her e'e;
"O I wad dance wi' my true love,
Tho' bursts my heart in three!"]
She hadna turned her throw the dance,
Throw the dance but thrice, 120
Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet,
And up did never rise!
[She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,
Her garter frae her knee:
"Gie that, gie that, to my young son; 125
He'll ne'er his mother see."]
Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer,
And gi'en it to his man;
"Gae hame, and tell my mother dear,
My horse he has me slain; 130
Bid her be kind to my young son,
For father he has nane."
["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried,
"Gar deal, gar deal the wine;
This day has seen my true love's death, 135
This night shall witness mine."]
The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,
And the tither in Marie's quire:
Out of the tane there grew a birk,
And the tither a bonny brier. 140
SWEET WILLIE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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