Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Scottish ballads

266
" He winna still, fair lady,
Let me do any thing."
" O gentle nourice, still my bairn ;
Wi' the spune, but or the knife."
" I'll try what I can do, madam,
Though I should lose my life."
" Sweet nourice, loud still cries my bairn ;
O still him wi' the bell."
" He will not still, fair lady.
Till ye come doun yoursell."
" O how can I come doun, nourice,
This cauld dark frosty nicht,
Without a coal into my bouir,
But or a candle licht ?"
" There are twa smocks into your kist,
As white as ony swan :
Put ane o' them about you, madam ;
Its sheen will licht you doun."
She's taen the white smock about her,
And she's come tripping doun ;
And wha did meet her at the fit.
But the bluidy Lammikin.
" Oh mercy, mercy, Lammikin !
Hae mercy upon me !
Though you hae taen my young son's life,
You may let mysell abee."
" Now sail I kill her, nourice, say, .
Or sail I let her be ?"
" O kill her, kill her, Lammikin,
For she ne'er was gude to me."