O waly,{1} waly, up the bank, O waly, waly, doun the brae,{2} And waly, waly, yon burn-side,{3} Where I and my love were wont to gae! I lean'd my back unto an aik, I thocht it was a trustie tree, But first it bow'd and syne{4} it brak',-- Sae my true love did lichtlie{5} me. O waly, waly, but love be bonnie A little time while it is new! But when it's auld it waxeth cauld, And fadeth awa' like the morning dew. O wherefore should I busk{6} my heid, Or wherefore should I kame my hair? For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never lo'e me mair. Noo Arthur's Seat{7} sall be my bed, The sheets sall ne'er be press'd by me; Saint Anton's well sall be my drink; Since my true love's forsaken me. Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I am wearie. 'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie, 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry; But my love's heart grown cauld to me. When we cam' in by Glasgow toun, We were a comely sicht to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysel' in cramasie. But had I wist before I kiss'd That love had been so ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case o' goud, And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin. Oh, oh! if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee; An' I mysel' were dead and gane, And the green grass growing over me! NOTES. "This is a very ancient song," says Bishop Percy, "but we can only give it from a modern copy." It is often printed as part of a ballad relating to the history of Lord James Douglas and of the Laird of Blackwood. The lament is that of a beautiful lady whose fortunes were connected with those of Lord Douglas. 1. =waly.= An interjection denoting grief. 2. =brae.= Hillside. 3. =burn-side.= Brook-side. 4. =syne.= Then. 5. =lichtlie.= Slight, undervalue. 6. =busk.= Dress. 7. =Arthur's Seat.= A hill near Edinburgh, at the foot of which is St. Anthony's well. SIR PATRICK SPENS. A SCOTTISH BALLAD. [This ballad is a confused echo of the Scotch expedition which should have brought the Maid of Norway to Scotland about 1285.] The king sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine; "O whare will I get a skeely skipper, To sail this new ship of mine!" O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee,-- "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, That ever sail'd the sea." Our king has written a braid letter, And seal'd it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand. "To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou maun bring her hame."