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The Braes o Yarrow

THE BRAES O YARROW—B

[_]

Murison MS., p. 105; Old Deer, Aberdeenshire.

1

Three lords sat drinking at the wine
I the bonny braes o Yarrow,
An there cam a dispute them between,
Who was the Flower o Yarrow.

2

‘I'm wedded to your sister dear,
Ye coont nae me your marrow;
I stole her fae her father's back,
An made her the Flower o Yarrow.’

3

‘Will ye try hearts, or will ye try hans,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?
Or will ye try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?’

4

‘I winna try hearts, I winna try hans,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow,
But I will try the weel airmt sword,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’

5

‘Ye'll stay at home, my own good lord,
Ye'll stay at home tomorrow;
My brethren three they will slay thee,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’

6

‘Bonnie, bonnie shines the sun,
An early sings the sparrow;
166

Before the clock it will strike nine
An I'll be home tomorrow.’

7

She's kissed his mouth, an combed his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She's dressed him in his noble bow,
An he's awa to Yarrow.

8

As he gaed up yon high, high hill,
An doon the dens o Yarrow,
An there he spied ten weel airmt men
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.

9

It's five he wounded, an five he slew,
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow;
There cam a squire out o the bush,
An pierced his body thorough.

10

‘I dreamed a dream now sin the streen,
God keep us a' fae sorrow!
That my good lord was sleepin soun
I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’

11

‘O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,
An tak it not in sorrow;
I'll wed you wi as good a lord
As you've lost this day in Yarrow.’

12

‘O haud your tongue, my father dear,
An wed your sons wi sorrow;
For a fairer flower neer sprang in May nor June
Nor I've lost this day in Yarrow.’

13

Fast did she gang, fast did she rin,
Until she cam to Yarrow,
An there she fan her own good lord,
He was sleepin soun in Yarrow.

14

She's taen three lachters o her hair,
That hung doon her side sae bonny,
An she's tied them roon his middle tight,
An she's carried him hame frae Yarrow.

15

This lady being big wi child,
She was fu o grief an sorrow;
Her heart did break, and then she died,
She did not live till morrow.
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