Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts
"Bind up, bind up your yellow hair, 5
And tye it in your neck;
And see you look as maiden-like
As the day that we first met."
"O how can I look maiden-like,
When maiden I'll ne'er be; 10
When seven brave sons I've born to thee,
And the eighth is in my bodie?
"The eldest of your sons, my lord,
Wi' red gold shines his weed;
The second of your sons, my lord, 15
Rides on a milk-white steed.
"And the third of your sons, my lord,
He draws your beer and wine;
And the fourth of your sons, my lord,
Can serve you when you dine. 20
"And the fift of your sons, my lord,
He can both read and write;
And the sixth of your sons, my lord,
Can do it most perfyte.
"And the sevent of your sons, my lord, 25
Sits on the nurse's knee:
And how can I look maiden-like,
When a maid I'll never be?
"But wha will bake your wedding bread,
And brew your bridal ale? 30
Or wha will welcome your brisk bride
That you bring owre the dale?"
"I'll put cooks in my kitchen,
And stewards in my hall,
And I'll have bakers for my bread, 35
And brewers for my ale;
But you're to welcome my brisk bride
That I bring owre the dale."
He set his feet into his ship,
And his cock-boat on the main; 40
He swore it would be year and day
Or he returned again.
When year and day was past and gane,
Fair Annie she thocht lang;
And she is up to her bower head, 45
To behold both sea and land.
"Come up, come up, my eldest son,
And see now what you see;
O yonder comes your father dear,
And your stepmother to be." 50
"Cast off your gown of black, mother,
Put on your gown of brown,
And I'll put off my mourning weeds,
And we'll welcome him home."
She's taken wine into her hand, 55
And she has taken bread,
And she is down to the water side
To welcome them indeed.
"You're welcome, my lord, you're welcome, my lord,
You're welcome home to me; 60
So is every lord and gentleman
That is in your companie.
"You're welcome, my lady, you're welcome, my lady,
You're welcome home to me;
So is every lady and gentleman 65
That's in your companie."
"I thank you, my girl, I thank you, my girl,
I thank you heartily;
If I live seven years about this house,
Rewarded you shall be." 70
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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