Inglis Collection of printed music > Printed music > Scottish songs > Volume 2

( i6 S )
Let that faim hand now take hir life
That neir to thee did ill.
" To me nae after days nor nichta
Will eir be faft and kind ;
I'll fill the air vvich heavy fighs,
And greet till I am blind."
«' Enouch of blood by me's bin fpilt,
Seek not zour death frae mee;
I rather lourd it had been my fel
Than eather him or thee.
" With waefo wae I hear zour plaint j
Sair, fair I rew the deid,
That eir this curfed hand of mine
Had gard his body bleid.
Dry up zour teirs, my winfome dame,
Ze neir can heal his wound,
Ze fee his head upon the fpeir,
His heart's blude on the ground.
" I curfe the hand that did the deid,
The heart that thocht the ill ;
The feat that bore me wi' fik fpeid,
The comely zouth to kill.
I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,
As gin he were mine ain ;
I'll neir forget the dreiry day
On which the zouth was flam.'*