Classic Poem

Sweet Willie 's ta'en him o'er the faem,
He 's woo'd a wife and brought her hame.

He 's woo'd her for her yellow hair,
But 's mither wrought her mickle care;

And mickle dolour gart her dree,
For lighter can she never be;

But in her bower she sits wi' pain,
And Willy mourns o'er her in vain.

Now to his mither he is gane,
That vile rank witch o' vilest kin.

He says, My lady has a girdle,
It's a' red goud unto the middle;

And ay at ilka silver hem
Hings fifty silver bells and ten;

That goodly gift shall be your ain,
And let her be lighter o' her young bairn.

O' her young bairn she 's never be lighter,
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter;

But she shall die and turn to clay,
And you shall wed anither may.

Anither may I'll never wed,
Anither may I'll never bring hame;

But sighing, says that weary wight,
I wish my days were at an en'.

He did him till his mither again,
That vile rank witch o' vilest kin,

And said, My lady has a steed,
The like o' him 's nae i' the lands o' Leed;

For he is gouden shod before
And he is gouden shod behin';

And at ilka tate o' that horse mane
There 's a gouden chess and bell ringin':—

This goodly gift sall be your ain,
And lat her be lighter o' her young bairn.

O' her young bairn she 's never be lighter,
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter;

But she shall die and go to clay,
And you shall wed anither may.

Anither may I'll never wed,
Anither may I'll never bring hame;

But sighing, says that weary wight,
I wish my life were at an en'.

Then out it spak the Billy Blin'—
He spak ay in a good time—

Ye do you to the market-place,
And there ye buy a leaf o' wax.

Ye shape it bairn and bairnly like,
And in twa glazen e'en ye pit;

And do you to your mither then,
And bid her to your boy's Christnin—

For dear 's the boy he's been to you—
Then notice well what she shall do;

And do you stand a little forbye,
And listen well what she will say.

He did him to the market-place,
And there he bought a leaf o' wax.

He shaped it bairn and bairnly like,
And in twa glazen e'en he pat;

He did him till his mither then,
And bade her to his boy's Christnin;

And he did stand a little forbye,
And noticed well what she did say.

O wha has loos'd the nine witch knots
That was amang that lady 's locks?

And wha 's ta'en out the kaimbs o' care
That was amang that lady 's hair?

And wha has kill'd the master kid
That ran aneath that lady's bed?

And wha has loos'd her left-foot shee,
And latten that lady lighter be?

O Willy has loos'd the nine witch knots
That hang amang his lady's locks;

And Willy 's ta'en out the kaimbs o' care
That hang amang his lady's hair;

And Willy's killed the master kid
That ran aneath his lady's bed;

And Willy 's loos'd her left-foot shee,
And latten his lady lighter be.