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"If we maun part this love, Janet, It causeth mickle woe; If we maun part this love, Janet, It makes me into mourning go." 30

"But ye maun gang to your three sisters, Meg, Marion, and Jean; Tell them to come to Fair Janet, In case that her days are dune."

Willie's awa' to his three sisters, 35 Meg, Marion, and Jean; "O haste, and gang to Fair Janet, I fear that her days are dune."

Some drew to them their silken hose, Some drew to them their shoon, 40 Some drew to them their silk manteils, Their coverings to put on; And they're awa' to Fair Janet, By the hie light o' the moon.

"O I have born this babe, Willie, 45 Wi' mickle toil and pain; Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie, For nurse I dare be nane."

He's tane his young son in his arms, And kist him cheek and chin,-- 50 And he's awa' to his mother's bower, By the hie light o' the moon.

"O open, open, mother," he says, "O open, and let me in; The rain rains on my yellow hair, 55 And the dew drops o'er my chin,-- And I hae my young son in my arms, I fear that his days are dune."

With her fingers lang and sma'

She lifted up the pin; 60 And with her arms lang and sma'

Received the baby in.

"Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie, And comfort your fair lady; For where ye had but ae nourice, 65 Your young son shall hae three."

Willie he was scarce awa', And the lady put to bed, When in and came her father dear: "Make haste, and busk the bride." 70

"There's a sair pain in my head, father, There's a sair pain in my side; And ill, O ill, am I, father, This day for to be a bride."

"O ye maun busk this bonny bride, 75 And put a gay mantle on; 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; 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


"This ballad has had the misfortune, in common with many others, of being much mutilated by reciters. I have endeavoured, by the assistance of some fragments, to make it as complete as possible; and have even taken the liberty of altering the arrangement of some of the stanzas of a lately-procured copy, that they might the better cohere with those already printed." FINLAY'S _Scottish Ballads_, ii.


"Will you marry the southland lord, A queen o' fair England to be?

Or will you mourn for sweet Willie, The morn upon yon lea?"

"I will marry the southland lord, 5 Father, sen it is your will; But I'd rather it were my burial day, For my grave I'm going till.

"O go, O go now my bower wife, O go now hastilie, 10 O go now to sweet Willie's bower, And bid him cum speak to me.--

"Now, Willie, gif ye love me weel, As sae it seems to me, Gar build, gar build a bonny ship, 15 Gar build it speedilie!

"And we will sail the sea sae green Unto some far countrie; Or we'll sail to some bonny isle, Stands lanely midst the sea." 20

But lang or e'er the ship was built, Or deck'd or rigged out, Cam sic a pain in Annet's back, That down she cou'dna lout.

"Now, Willie, gin ye love me weel, 25 As sae it seems to me, O haste, haste, bring me to my bower, And my bower maidens three."

He's ta'en her in his arms twa, And kiss'd her cheek and chin, 30 He's brocht her to her ain sweet bower, But nae bower maid was in.

"Now leave my bower, Willie," she said, "Now leave me to my lane; Was never man in a lady's bower 35 When she was travailing."

He's stepped three steps down the stair, Upon the marble stane, Sae loud's he heard his young son greet, But and his lady mane. 40

"Now come, now come, Willie," she said, "Tak your young son frae me, And hie him to your mother's bower, With speed and privacie."

And he is to his mother's bower, 45 As fast as he could rin; "Open, open, my mother dear, Open, and let me in;

"For the rain rains on my yellow hair, The dew stands on my chin, 50 And I have something in my lap, And I wad fain be in."

"O go, O go now, sweet Willie, And make your lady blithe, For wherever you had ae nourice, 55 Your young son shall hae five."--

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