The English and Scottish Popular Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

An fan he came to his love's gates
He tirled att the pin:
‘Open yer gates, May Meggie,
Open yer gates to me,
For my bets is fue of Claid's water,
An the rain rins on a' my chine.’

11

‘I ha ne loves therout,’ she says,
‘I haa ne love theren;
My true-love is in my arms tua,
An nean will I latt in.’

12

‘Open yer gates, Meggie,
This night to me,
For Clide's water is full of flood,
An my mider's mallison will droun me in.’

13

‘An of my chambers is full of corn,’ she says,
‘Anether is full of hay,
The other is full of gentelmen,
An they winnë remove till day.’

14

Out waked her May Meggie,
Out of her drussie dream:
‘I dreamed a dream nou san the streen,
God read a' dreams to gued!
That my true-love Willie
Was staning att my bed-feet.’

15

‘Nou lay still, my a dather,
An keep my back fraa the call;
It's na the space of haf an hour
Sayn he gade fra your hall.’

16

‘Hey, Willie! an hou, Willie!
An Willie, winnë ye turn agen?’
But ay the louder that she crayed
He read agenst the wind.

17

He raid up yon high hill,
An doun yon douë den,
An the roring that was in Clid's water
Wad ha fleed ten thousand men.

18

He raid in
Tell he came to the chine,
An he raid forder in,
Bat never mare came out agen.

19

She sought him up, she sought him doun,
She sought him braid an narrou;
In the depest pot in a' Claid's water,
Ther she gat Suit Willie.

20

She has kissed his comly mouth,
As she had den afore:
‘Baith our midders sall be alike sorry,
For we's bath slipe soun in Clide's water.’

21

Ther was na mare seen of that gued lord
Bat his hat frae his head;
There was na mare seen of that gued lady
Bat her keem an her sneed.

22

Ther mideers went up an doun the water,
Saying, Clayd's water din us wrong!

188

Willie and May Margaret

THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER—B

[_]

Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 135; from Mrs Brown's recitation, apparently in 1800.

1

‘Gie corn to my horse, mither,
Gie meat unto my man,
For I maun gang to Margaret's bower
Before the nicht comes on.’

2

‘O stay at hame now, my son Willie,
The wind blaws cald and sour;
The nicht will be baith mirk and late
Before ye reach her bower.’

3

‘O tho the nicht were ever sae dark,
Or the wind blew never sae cald,
I will be in my Margaret's bower
Before twa hours be tald.’

4

‘O gin ye gang to May Margaret,
Without the leave of me,
Clyde's water's wide and deep enough,
My malison drown thee!’

5

He mounted on his coal-black steed,
And fast he rade awa,
But ere he came to Clyde's water
Fu loud the wind did blaw.

6

As he rode oer yon hich, hich hill,
And down yon dowie den,
There was a roar in Clyde's water
Wad feard a hunder men.

7

His heart was warm, his pride was up;
Sweet Willie kentna fear;
But yet his mither's malison
Ay sounded in his ear.

8

O he has swam through Clyde's water,
Tho it was wide and deep,
And he came to May Margaret's door,
When a' were fast asleep.

9

O he's gane round and round about,
And tirled at the pin;
But doors were steekd, and windows barrd,
And nane wad let him in.

10

‘O open the door to me, Margaret!
O open and lat me in!
For my boots are full o Clyde's water
And frozen to the brim.’

11

‘I darena open the door to you,
Nor darena lat you in,
For my mither she is fast asleep,
And I darena mak nae din.’

189

12

‘O gin ye winna open the door,
Nor yet be kind to me,
Now tell me o some out-chamber
Where I this nicht may be.’

13

‘Ye canna win in this nicht, Willie,
Nor here ye canna be;
For I've nae chambers out nor in,
Nae ane but barely three.

14

‘The tane o them is fu o corn,
The tither is fu o hay;
The tither is fu o merry young men;
They winna remove till day.’

15

‘O fare ye weel, then, May Margaret,
Sin better manna be;
I've win my mither's malison,
Coming this nicht to thee.’

16

He's mounted on his coal-black steed,
O but his heart was wae!
But, ere he came to Clyde's water,
'Twas half up oer the brae.

[OMITTED]

17

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED] he plunged in,
But never raise again.

The Drowned Lovers; or, Willie and Margaret

THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER—C

[_]

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 140.

1

Willie stands in his stable-door,
And clapping at his steed,
And looking oer his white fingers
His nose began to bleed.

2

‘Gie corn to my horse, mother,
And meat to my young man,
And I'll awa to Maggie's bower;
I'll win ere she lie down.’

3

‘O bide this night wi me, Willie,
O bide this night wi me;
The best an cock o a' the reest
At your supper shall be.’

4

‘A’ your cocks, and a' your reests,
I value not a prin,
For I'll awa to Meggie's bower;
I'll win ere she lie down.’

5

‘Stay this night wi me, Willie,
O stay this night wi me;
The best an sheep in a' the flock
At your supper shall be.’

6

‘A’ your sheep, and a' your flocks,
I value not a prin,
For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower;
I'll win ere she lie down.’

7

‘O an ye gang to Meggie's bower,
Sae sair against my will,
The deepest pot in Clyde's water,
My malison ye's feel.’

8

‘The guid steed that I ride upon
Cost me thrice thretty pound;
And I'll put trust in his swift feet
To hae me safe to land.’

9

As he rade ower yon high, high hill,
And down yon dowie den,
The noise that was in Clyde's water
Woud feard five huner men.

10

‘O roaring Clyde, ye roar ower loud,
Your streams seem wondrous strang;
Make me your wreck as I come back,
But spare me as I gang!’

11

Then he is on to Maggie's bower,
And tirled at the pin;
‘O sleep ye, wake ye, Meggie,’ he said,
‘Ye'll open, lat me come in.’

12

‘O wha is this at my bower-door,
That calls me by my name?’
‘It is your first love, sweet Willie,
This night newly come hame.’

13

‘I hae few lovers thereout, thereout,
As few hae I therein;

190

The best an love that ever I had
Was here just late yestreen.’

14

‘The warstan stable in a' your stables,
For my puir steed to stand!
The warstan bower in a' your bowers,
For me to lie therein!
My boots are fu o Clyde's water,
I'm shivering at the chin.’

15

‘My barns are fu o corn, Willie,
My stables are fu o hay;
My bowers are fu o gentlemen,
They'll nae remove till day.’

16

‘O fare ye well, my fause Meggie,
O farewell, and adieu!
I've gotten my mither's malison
This night coming to you.’

17

As he rode ower yon high, high hill,
And down yon dowie den,
The rushing that was in Clyde's water
Took Willie's cane frae him.

18

He leand him ower his saddle-bow,
To catch his cane again;
The rushing that was in Clyde's water
Took Willie's hat frae him.

19

He leand him ower his saddle-bow,
To catch his hat thro force;
The rushing that was in Clyde's water
Took Willie frae his horse.

20

His brither stood upo the bank,
Says, Fye, man, will ye drown?
Ye'll turn ye to your high horse head
And learn how to sowm.

21

‘How can I turn to my horse head
And learn how to sowm?
I've gotten my mither's malison,
It's here that I maun drown.’

22

The very hour this young man sank
Into the pot sae deep,
Up it wakend his love Meggie
Out o her drowsy sleep.

23

‘Come here, come here, my mither dear,
And read this dreary dream;
I dreamd my love was at our gates,
And nane wad let him in.’

24

‘Lye still, lye still now, my Meggie,
Lye still and tak your rest;
Sin your true-love was at your yates,
It's but twa quarters past.’

25

Nimbly, nimbly raise she up,
And nimbly pat she on,
And the higher that the lady cried,
The louder blew the win.

26

The first an step that she steppd in,
She stepped to the queet;
‘Ohon, alas!’ said that lady,
‘This water's wondrous deep.’

27

The next an step that she wade in,
She wadit to the knee;
Says she, ‘I coud wide farther in,
If I my love coud see.’

28

The next an step that she wade in,
She wadit to the chin;
The deepest pot in Clyde's water
She got sweet Willie in.

29

‘You've had a cruel mither, Willie,
And I have had anither;
But we shall sleep in Clyde's water
Like sister an like brither.’