The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
Davie Faw; or, Gypsie Davy
THE GYPSY LADDIE—C
1
There cam singers to Earl Cassillis' gates,And oh, but they sang bonnie!
They sang sae sweet and sae complete,
Till down cam the earl's lady.
2
She cam tripping down the stair,And all her maids before her;
As soon as they saw her weel-faurd face,
They coost their glamourye owre her.
3
They gave her o the gude sweetmeats,The nutmeg and the ginger,
And she gied them a far better thing,
Ten gold rings aff her finger.
4
‘Tak from me my silken cloak,And bring me down my plaidie;
For it is gude eneuch,’ she said,
‘To follow a Gipsy Davy.
5
‘Yestreen I rode this water deep,And my gude lord beside me;
But this nicht I maun set in my pretty fit and wade,
A wheen blackguards wading wi me.
6
‘Yestreen I lay in a fine feather-bed,And my gude lord beyond me;
But this nicht I maun lye in some cauld tenant's-barn,
A wheen blackguards waiting on me.’
7
‘Come to thy bed, my bonny Jeanie Faw,Come to thy bed, my dearie,
For I do swear, by the top o my spear,
Thy gude lord'll nae mair come near thee.’
8
When her good lord cam hame at nicht,It was asking for his fair ladye;
One spak slow, and another whisperd out,
‘She's awa wi Gipsey Davy!’
9
‘Come saddle to me my horse,’ he said,‘Come saddle and mak him readie!
For I'll neither sleep, eat, nor drink
Till I find out my lady.’
10
They socht her up, they socht her doun,They socht her thro nations many,
Till at length they found her out in Abbey dale,
Drinking wi Gipsey Davy.
11
‘Rise, oh rise, my bonnie Jeanie Faw,Oh rise, and do not tarry!
Is this the thing ye promised to me
When at first I did thee marry?’
12
They drank her cloak, so did they her goun,They drank her stockings and her shoon,
And they drank the coat that was nigh to her smock,
And they pawned her pearled apron.
13
They were sixteen clever men,Suppose they were na bonny;
They are a' to be hangd on ae tree,
For the stealing o Earl Cassilis' lady.
14
‘We are sixteen clever men,One woman was a' our mother;
We are a' to be hanged on ae day,
For the stealing of a wanton lady.’
| The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | |