Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Scottish ballads

367
She weaved ower his brow^the white lilie,
Wi' witch-knots mae than nine ;
" Gif ye were seven times bridegroom ower,
This nicht ye shall be mine."
O twice he turned his sinking head,
And twice he lifted his ee ;
O twice he socht to lift the links
Were knotted ower his bree.
" Arise, sweet knicht ; your young bride waits,
And doubts her ale will some ;
And wistlie looks at the lilie-white sheets,
Doun- spread in ladie-bouir."
And she has prinned* the broidered silk
About her white hause bane ;
Her princely petticoat is on,
Wi' gowd can stand its lane.
He faintlie, slowlie turned his cheek,
And faintlie lift his ee ;
And he strave to lowse the witching bands
Abune his burning bree.
Then took she up his green mantle,
Of lowing gowd the hem ;
Then took she up his silken cap,
Rich wi' a siller stem ;
And she threw them wi' her lilie hand
Amang the white sea-faem.
She took the bride-ring frae his finger.
And threw it in the sea ;
" That hand shall mense nae other ring
But wi' the will o' me."
* Pinned.