Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Scottish ballads

207
They drapt it on her red rose lips ;
But they breathed none again.
She neither chattered with her teeth,
Nor shivered with her chin.
" Alas, alas !" her father cried ;
" There is nae breath within."
Then up arose her sevin brethren,
And hewed to her a bier ;
They hewed it frae the solid aik.
Laid it ower wi' silver clear.
Then up and gat her sevin sisters,
And sewed to her a kell ;
And every steek that they put in,
Sewed to a siller bell.
*' O weel is me, my jolly goss hawk,
That ye can speak and flee I
Come show me any love tokens.
That you have brought to me."
" She sends you the rings from her white fingers,
The garlands from her hair ;
She sends you the heart within her breist ;
And what would you have mair ?
And at the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland,
She bids you meet her there."
" Come hither, all my merry young men,
And drink the good red wine ;
For we maun on to fair England,
To free my love from pyne."
At the first kirk of fair Scotland,
They gart the bells be rung ;