Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Scottish ballads

12T
And washed the blude from aff his wound ;
But ay it bled the mair.
" Oh, billie, tak aff my Holland sark,
And ryve't frae gair to gair ;
And stap it in my bluidy wound,
And syne 'twill bleed nae mair."
He has taen aff his Holland sark,
And riren't frae gair to gair ;
He has stappit it in the bluidy wound ;
But ay it bled mair and mair.
" Oh, brother deir, tak me on your back ;
Tak me to yon kirk-yard ;
And dig a graif baith wide and deip,
And lay my body there.
Ye'll lay my arrows at my heid,
My bent bow at my feet.
My sword and buckler at my side,
As I was wont to
When ye gae hame to your father,
He'll speir for his son John ;
Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair,
Learning the schule alone.
When ye gae hame to my sister.
She'll speir for her brother John ;
Ye'll say ye left him in Kirkland fair,
The green grass growin aboon.
When ye gae hame to my true lore.
She'll speir for her lord John ;
Ye'll say ye left him in Kirkland fair ;
But hame, ye fear, he'll never come."