Balow, my boy, weep not for me, Whose greatest grief's for wronging thee; Nor pity her deserved smart, Who can blame none but her fond heart; For, too soon trusting latest finds 55 With fairest tongues are falsest minds. _Balow, my boy, &c._ Balow, my boy, thy father's fled, When he the thriftless son has played; Of vows and oaths forgetful, he 60 Preferr'd the wars to thee and me. But now, perhaps, thy curse and mine Make him eat acorns with the swine. _Balow, my boy, &c._ But curse not him; perhaps now he, 65 Stung with remorse, is blessing thee: Perhaps at death; for who can tell, Whether the judge of heaven or hell, By some proud foe has struck the blow, And laid the dear deceiver low? 70 _Balow, my boy, &c._ I wish I were into the bounds Where he lies smother'd in his wounds, Repeating, as he pants for air, My name, whom once he call'd his fair; 75 No woman's yet so fiercely set, But she'll forgive, though not forget. _Balow, my boy, &c._ If linen lacks, for my love's sake, Then quickly to him would I make 80 My smock, once for his body meet, And wrap him in that winding-sheet Ah me! how happy had I been, If he had ne'er been wrapt therein. _Balow, my boy, &c._ Balow, my boy, I'll weep for thee: 85 Too soon, alake, thou'lt weep for me: Thy griefs are growing to a sum, God grant thee patience when they come; Born to sustain thy mother's shame, A hapless fate, a bastard's name. 90 _Balow, my boy, ly still and sleep_, _It grieves me sore to hear thee weep_. LADY ANNE BOTHWELL'S LAMENT. From Percy's _Reliques_, ii. 207. "From a copy in the Editor's folio MS., corrected by another in Allan Ramsay's _Miscellany_." Balow, my babe, lye still and sleipe! It grieves me sair to see thee weipe: If thoust be silent, Ise be glad, Thy maining maks my heart ful sad. Balow, my boy, thy mothers joy, 5 Thy father breides me great annoy. _Balow, my babe, ly stil and sleipe_, _It grieves me sair to see thee weepe_. Whan he began to court my luve, And with his sugred wordes to muve, 10 His faynings fals and flattering cheire To me that time did not appeire: But now I see, most cruell hee Cares neither for my babe nor mee. _Balow, &c._ 15