For she shall wed this auld French lord, Gin she should die the morn." Some put on the gay green robes, And some put on the brown; But Janet put on the scarlet robes, To shine foremost through the town. (_busk_, dress.) And some they mounted the black steed, And some mounted the brown; But Janet mounted the milk-white steed, 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!" And when they cam to Mary's kirk, To tie the haly ban, Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan, And her colour ga'ed and cam. When dinner it was past and done, And dancing to begin, "O we'll go take the bride's maidens, And we'll go fill the ring." O ben then cam the auld French lord, Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?" "Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord, Your face I downa see." O ben then cam now Sweet Willie, He cam with ane advance: "O I'll go tak the bride's maidens, And we'll go tak a dance." (_downa_, cannot.) "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." O ben then 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 taen Willie by the hand, The tear blinded her e'e; "O I wad dance wi' my true love, Tho' bursts my heart in three!"] She hadna turned her through the dance, Through the dance but thrice, 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; 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; 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, This night shall witness mine."] The tane was buried in Mary's kirk, And the tither in Mary's quire: Out of the tane there grew a birk, And the tither a bonny briar. (_tane_, one. _tither_, other.) [Illustration: 0250] FAIR HELEN PART SECOND. |I wish I were where Helen lies, Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies, On fair Kirconnell Lee! Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms burd Helen dropt, And died to succour me! O think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak nae mair, There did she swoon wi' mickle care, On fair Kirconnell Lee. As I went down the water side, None but my foe to be my guidç,