Classic Poem

D AVID D RUMMOND'S destinie,
Gude man o' appearance o' Cargill,
I wat this bluid rins in the flude
Sae sair against his parents' will.

She was the lass o' Ballathy toun,
And he the butler o' Stobhall,
And mony a time she wauked late
To bore the Coble o' Cargill.

His bed was made in Kercock ha',
O' gude clean sheets and o' the hay,
He wadna rest a'e nicht therein
But on the proud waters he wad gae.

His bed was made in Ballathy toun,
O' gude clean sheets and o' the strae,
But I wat it was far better made
Into the bottom o' bonnie Tay.

She bored the Coble in seven parts,
I wat her heart micht hae been sair,
For there she got the bonnie lad lost,
Wi' the curly locks and the yellow hair.

He put his foot into the boat,
He little thocht o' ony ill;
But before that he was mid waters,
The weary Coble began to fill.

" Wae be to the lass o' Ballathy toun,
I wat an ill death may she dee,
For she bored the Coble in seven parts,
And let the waters perish me!

" Help! on help! I can get nane,
Nae help o' man can to me come, "
This was about his dying words,
When he was chok'd up to the chin.

" Gae tell my father and my mother,
It was naebody did me this ill,
I was a-going my ain errands
Lost at the Coble o' bonnie Cargill. "

She bored the boat in seven parts,
I wat she bored it wi' gude will,
And there they got the bonnie lad's corpse
In the kirk shot o' bonnie Cargill.

Oh, a' the keys o' bonnie Stobhall,
I wat they at his belt did hing;
But a' the keys o' bonnie Stobhall
They now lie low into the stream.

A braver page unto his age
Ne'er set a loot upon the plain;
His father to his mother said,
" Oh, sae sune's we've wanted him! "

I wat they had mair love than this
When they were young and at the scule,
But for his sake she wauked late
And bored the Coble o' bonnie Cargill.

" There's ne'er a clean sark gae on my back,
Nor yet a kame gae in my hair;
There's neither coal nor candle licht
Shine in my bower for evermair.

" At kirk or market I'se ne'er be at,
Nor yet a blythe blink in my e'e;
There's ne'er a ane shall say to anither,
That's the lassie gar'd the young man dee. "

Between the yetts o' bonnie Stobhall
And the Kirkstyle o' bonnie Cargill,
There is mony a man and mother's son,
That was at my luve's burial.