I winnae cum in, I winnae cum in, Scho pow'd an apple reid and white And scho has taine out a little pen-knife, Scho has twin'd the zoung thing of his life; And outand cam the thick thick bluid, And outand cam the bonny herts bluid: Scho laid him on a dressing borde, Scho row'd him in a cake of lead, Was fifty fathom deip. Quhan bells wer rung, and mass was fung, And every lady went hame : Than ilk lady had her zoung fonne, But Lady HELEN had nane. Scho row'd hir mantil hir about, My bonny Sir HEW, my pretty Sir HEW, I pray thee to me speik : "O lady rinn to the deip draw-well "Gin ze zour fonne wad feik." Lady HELEN ran to the deip draw-well, And knelt upon her kne: My bonny Sir HEW, and ze be here, thee fpeik to me. I pray The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, Gae hame, gae hame, my mother deir, And at the back o' Mirry-land toune, TH There gowans are gay; Thy gar me wake when I shou'd sleep, The first morning of May. About the fields as I did pass, There gowans are gay; Right bufy was that bonny maid, I halft her, fyne to her I said, O mistress fair, what do you here, Gathering the dew, what neid ye fpeir? The dew, quoth I, what can that mean? There gowans are gay; Quoth fhe, To wash my mistress clean, The first morning of May. I asked farder at hir fyne, There gowans are gay, She faid, her errand was not there, Then like an arrow frae a bow, There gowans are gay; And left me in the garth my lane, There gowans are gay; The first morning of May. The little birds they fang full fweet, The first morning of May. And thereabout I past my time, There gowans are gay; And then returned hame bedeen, Panfand what maiden that had been, The first morning of May. Kertonha' or, The Fairy Court. HE's prickt herfell and prin'd herfell, And she's awa' to Kertonha', As faft as the can gang. "What gars ye pu' the rose, JENNY? "Yes, I will pu' the rose, THOMAS, "Full pleasant is the fairy land, And happy there to dwell; I am a fairy lyth and limb; O pleasant is the fairy land! The morn is good Hallow-e'en, But firft ye'll let the black gae by, And then ye'll let the brown: Then I'll ride on a milk-white steed, You'll pu' me to the ground. And first, I'll grow into your arms, Next, I'll grow into your arms Laft, I'll grow into your arms Then, maiden fair, you'll let me go, |