"Auld Robin Gray" A ballad: Reprinted from the rare Bannatyne Club edition of 1825. Edited, with notes, by J. L. Weir |
 |
 | "Auld Robin Gray" |  |
8
“Auld Robin Gray”
I
When the sheep are in the fauld, when the cows come hame,When a' the weary world to quiet rest are gane,
The woes of my heart fa' in showers frae my ee,
Unken'd by my gudeman, who soundly sleeps by me.
II
Young Jamie loo'd me weel, and sought me for his bride;But saving ae crown-piece, he'd naething else beside,
To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea;
And the crown and the pound, oh! they were baith for me!
III
Before he had been gane a twelvemonth and a day,My father brak his arm, our cow was stown away;
My mother she fell sick—my Jamie was at sea—
And Auld Robin Gray, oh! he came a-courting me.
IV
My father cou'dna work—my mother cou'dna spin;I toil'd day and night, but their bread I cou'dna win;
Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his ee,
Said, “Jenny, oh! for their sakes, will you marry me?”
V
My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back;But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack:
His ship it was a wrack! Why didna Jenny dee?
9
VI
My father argued sair—my mother didna speak,But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break:
They gied him my hand, but my heart was in the sea;
And so Auld Robin Gray, he was gudeman to me.
VII
I hadna been wife, a week but only four,When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,
I saw my Jamie's ghaist—I cou'dna think it he,
Till he said, “I'm come hame, my love, to marry thee!”
VIII
O sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a';Ae kiss we took, nae mair—I bad him gang awa.
I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee;
For O, I am but young to cry out, Woe is me!
IX
I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin;I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin.
But I will do my best a gude wife aye to be.
For auld Robin Gray, oh! he is sae kind to me.
10
Continuation of Auld Robin Gray
I
The spring had pass'd over, 'twas summer nae mair,And trembling were scatter'd the leaves in the air:
“Oh winter!” said Jenny, “we kindly agree,
For wae looks the sun when he shines upon me.”
II
Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent—Despair it had come, and she thought it content;
She thought it content, but her cheek was grown pale,
And she droop'd like a lily bent down by the hail.
III
Her father was sad, and her mother was wae,But silent and thoughtfu' was Auld Robin Gray;
He wander'd his lane, and his face look'd as lean
As the side of a brae where the torrents have been.
IV
He gaed to his bed, but nae physic wou'd take,And often he said, “It is best, for her sake.”
While Jenny supported his head as he lay,
Her tears trickled down upon Auld Robin Gray.
V
“O, greet nae mair, Jenny,” said he, wi' a groan;“I'm no worth your sorrow—the truth maun be known!
Send round for our neighbours; my hour it draws near,
And I've that to tell that it's fit a' should hear.
11
VI
“I've wrong'd her,” he said, “but I kent it o'er late;“I've wrong'd her, and sorrow is speeding my date.
But a's for the best, since my death will soon free
A faithfu' young heart, that was ill match'd wi' me.
VII
“I loved and I courted her mony a day;The auld folks were for me, but still she said nae.
I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet of her vow;
In mercy forgive me!—'twas I stole the cow!
VIII
“I cared not for Crummie; I thought but o' thee!I thought it was Crummie stood 'twixt you and me.
While she fed your parents, oh! did you not say,
You never would marry wi' Auld Robin Gray?
IX
“But sickness at hame, and want at the door,You gied me your hand, while your heart it was sore.
I saw it was sore—why took I her hand?
Oh! that was a deed to cry shame o'er the land.
X
“But truth, soon or late, it comes ever to light;For Jamie came back, and your cheek it grew white.
White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me;
Oh, Jenny, I'm thankfu'—I'm thankfu' to dee!
XI
“Is Jamie come here yet?” and Jamie they saw.12
Be kind to my Jenny, and soon may it be!
Waste nae time, my dauties, in mourning for me.”
XII
They kiss'd his cauld hands; and a smile o'er his faceSeem'd hopefu' of being accepted by grace:
“Oh, doubtna,” said Jamie, “forgi'en he will be;
Wha wou'dna be tempted, my love, to win thee?”
XIII
The first days were dowie while time slipp'd awa;Though saddest and sairest to Jenny of a',
Was fearing she cou'dna be honest and right,
Wi' tears in her ee, while her heart was sae light.
XIV
But nae guile had she, and her sorrows away.The wife of her Jamie—the tears cou'dna stay.
A bonnie wee bairn—the auld folks by the fire;—
O now she has a' that her heart can desire.
13
Second Continuation of Auld Robin Gray
(Sung by Jenny, softly, at her wheel.)
I
The wintry days grew lang, my tears they were a' spent;May be it was despair I fancied was content.
They said my cheek was wan; I cou'dna look to see—
For, oh! the wee bit glass, my Jamie gaed it me.
II
My father he was sad, my mother dull and wae;But that which grieved me maist, it was Auld Robin Gray;
Though ne'er a word he said, his cheek said mair than a',
It wasted like a brae o'er which the torrents fa'.
III
He gaed into his bed—nae physic wad he take;And oft he moan'd, and said, “It's better, for her sake.”
At length he look'd upon me, and call'd me his “ain dear,”
And beckon'd round the neighbours, as if his hour drew near.
IV
“I've wrong'd her sair,” he said, “but kent the truth o'er late;It's grief for that alone that hastens now my date.
But a' is for the best, since death will shortly free
A young and faithful heart that was ill match'd wi' me.
14
V
“I loo'd, and sought to win her for mony a lang day;I had her parents' favour, but still she said me nay.
I knew na Jamie's luve; and oh! it's sair to tell—
To force her to be mine, I steal'd her cow mysel!
VI
“O what cared I for Crummie! I thought of nought but thee.I thought it was the cow stood 'twixt my luve and me.
While she maintain'd ye a', was you not heard to say,
That you wad never marry wi' Auld Robin Gray?
VII
“But sickness in the house, and hunger at the doorMy bairn gied me her hand, although her heart was sore.
I saw her heart was sore—why did I take her hand?
That was a sinfu' deed! to blast a bonnie land.
VIII
“It wasna very lang ere a' did come to light;For Jamie he came back, and Jenny's cheek grew white.
My spouse's cheek grew white, but true she was to me;
Jenny! I saw it a'—and oh, I'm glad to dee!
IX
“Is Jamie come?” he said; and Jamie by us stood—“Ye loo each other weel—Oh, let me do some good!
I gie you a', young man—my houses, cattle, kyne.
And the dear wife hersel, that ne'er should hae been mine.”
15
X
We kiss'd his clay-cold hands—a smile came o'er his face:“He's pardon'd,” Jamie said, “before the throne o' grace.
Oh, Jenny! see that smile—forgi'en I'm sure is he,
Wha could withstand temptation when hoping to win thee!”
XI
The days at first were dowie; but what was sad and sair,While tears were in my ee, I kent myself nae mair;
For, oh! my heart was light as ony bird that flew,
And, wae as a' thing was, it had a kindly hue.
XII
But sweeter shines the sun than e'er he shone before,For now I'm Jamie's wife, and what need I say more?
We hae a wee bit bairn—the auld folks by the fire—
And Jamie, oh! he loo's me up to my heart's desire.
| "Auld Robin Gray" | |