Sweet Willie, tell to me."
"O it is the bluid o' my grey hounds; 65 They wadna rin for me."
"It's nae the bluid o' your hounds, Willie; Their bluid was never so red; But it is the bluid o' my true love, That ye hae slain indeed." 70
That fair may wept, that fair may mourn'd, That fair may mourn'd and pin'd; "When every lady looks for her love, I ne'er need look for mine."
"O whaten a death will ye die, Willie? 75 Now, Willie, tell to me."
"Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat, And I'll gae sail the sea."
"Whan will ye come hame again, Willie?
Now, Willie, tell to me." 80 "Whan the sun and moon dances on the green, And that will never be."
32. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, was built of old by the abbot of Holyrood-house, for his accommodation when he came to that country, and was formerly the minister's manse." _Stat.
Ac. of Scotland_, vol. xiii. p. 506. J.
EDWARD, EDWARD.
"This curious Song was transmitted to the Editor by Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes."
PERCY, _Reliques_, i. 61.
"Quhy dois zour brand sae drop w' bluid, Edward, Edward?
Quhy dois zour brand sae drop wi' bluid, And quhy sae sad gang zee O?"
"O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 5 Mither, mither: O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, And I had nae mair bot hee O."
"Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, Edward, Edward: 10 Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, My deir son I tell thee O."
"O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, Mither, mither: O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, 15 That erst was sae fair and free O."
"Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, Edward, Edward: Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, Sum other dule ze drie O." 20 "O I hae killed my fadir deir, Mither, mither: O I hae killed my fadir deir, Alas! and wae is mee O!"
"And quhatten penance wul ze drie, for that, 25 Edward, Edward?
And quhatten penance will ze drie for that?
My deir son, now tell me O."
"Ile set my feit in zonder boat, Mither, mither: 30 Ile set my feit in zonder boat, And Ile fare ovir the sea O."
"And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', Edward, Edward?
And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', 35 That were sae fair to see O?"
"Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', Mither, mither: Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', For here nevir mair maun I bee O." 40
"And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, Edward, Edward?
And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, Quhan ze gang ovir the sea O?"
"The warldis room, late them beg throw life, 45 Mither, mither: The warldis room, late them beg throw life, For thame nevir mair wul I see O."
"And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir, Edward, Edward? 50 And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir?
My deir son, now tell me O."
"The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, Mither, mither: The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, 55 Sic counseils ze gave to me O."
SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE.
From the recitation of an old woman. Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, 339.
"What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
Son Davie! son Davie!
What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
And the truth come tell to me O."
"It is the bluid of my great hawk, 5 Mother lady! mother lady!
It is the bluid of my great hawk, And the truth I hae tald to thee O."
"Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, Son Davie! son Davie! 10 Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, And the truth come tell to me O."
"It is the bluid o' my grey hound, Mother lady! mother lady!
It is the bluid of my grey hound, 15 And it wudna rin for me O."
"Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, Son Davie! son Davie!
Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, And the truth come tell to me O." 20
"It is the bluid o' my brother John, Mother lady! mother lady!
It is the bluid o' my brother John, And the truth I hae tald to thee O."
"What about did the plea begin? 25 Son Davie! son Davie!"
"It began about the cutting o' a willow wand, That would never hae been a tree O."
"What death dost thou desire to die?
Son Davie! son Davie! 30 What death dost thou desire to die?
And the truth come tell to me O."
"I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, Mother lady! mother lady!
I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, 35 And ye'll never see mair o' me O."
"What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife?
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"Grief and sorrow all her life, And she'll never get mair frae me O." 40
"What wilt thou leave to thy auld son?
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"The weary warld to wander up and down, And he'll never get mair o' me O."
"What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear? 45 Son Davie! son Davie!"
"A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer, And she'll never get mair o' me O."