The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
THE LAILY WORM AND THE MACHREL OF THE SEA—A
[_]
Though Skene has rendered this ballad with reasonable fidelity, for an editor, it shall, on account of its interest, be given as it stands in the old lady's MS., where it is No 2.
1
‘I was bat seven year alldFan my mider she did dee,
My father marrëd the ae warst woman
The wardle did ever see.
2
‘For she has made me the lailly wormThat lays att the fitt of the tree,
An o my sister Meassry
The machrel of the sea.
3
‘An every Saterday att noonThe machrl comes ea to me,
An she takes my laylë head,
An lays it on her knee,
An keames it we a silver kemm,
An washes it in the sea.
4
‘Seven knights ha I slainSane I lay att the fitt of the tree;
An ye war na my ain father,
The eight an ye sud be.’
5
‘Sing on your song, ye l[a]ily worm,That ye sung to me;’
‘I never sung that song
But fatt I wad sing to ye.
6
‘I was but seven year aullFan my mider she [did] dee,
My father marrëd the a warst woman
The wardle did ever see.
7
‘She changed me to the layel[y] wormThat layes att the fitt of the tree,
An my sister Messry
[To] the makrell of the sea.
8
‘And every Saterday att noonThe machrell comes to me,
An she takes my layly head,
An layes it on her knee,
An kames it weth a siller kame,
An washes it in the sea.
9
‘Seven knights ha I slainSan I lay att the fitt of the tree;
An ye war na my ain father,
The eight ye sud be.’
10
He sent for his ladyAs fast as sen cod he:
‘Far is my son,
That ye sent fra me,
And my daughter,
Lady Messry?’
11
‘Yer son is att our king's court,Sarving for meatt an fee,
And yer doughter is att our quin's court,
A mary suit an free.’
12
‘Ye lee, ye ill woman,Sa loud as I hear ye lea,
For my son is the layelly worm
That lays at the fitt of the tree,
An my daughter Messry
The machrell of the sea.’
13
She has tain a silver wanAn gine him stroks three,
An he started up the bravest knight
Your eyes did ever see.
14
She has tane a small hornAn loud an shill blue she,
An a' the came her tell but the proud machrell,
An she stood by the sea:
‘Ye shaped me ance an unshemly shape,
An ye's never mare shape me.’
15
He has sent to the woodFor hathorn an fun,
An he has tane that gay lady,
An ther he did her burne.
| The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | |