Clide's Water
THE MOTHER'S MALISON, OR, CLYDE'S WATER—A
[_]
The Old Lady's Collection, No. 11.
1
‘Ye gie corn to my hors,
An meatt to my man,
For I will gai to my true-love's gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
2
‘O stay att home, my son Willie,
This a bare night we me;
The best bed in a' my house
Sall be well made to the.’
3
‘I care na for your beds, mider,
I care na a pin;
For I ill gae to my love's gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
4
‘O stay, my son Willie,
This night we me;
The best hen in a' mey reast
Sall be well made ready for the.’
5
‘I care na for your heans, midder,
I care na a pin;
For I ull gae to my love's gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
6
‘Gin ye winnë stay, my son Willie,
This a bare night we me,
Gin Claid's water be dip an fue of flud,
My malicen droun ye in.’
7
He road up yon high hill,
An doun yon douë den;
The roring of Clid's water
Wod ha flied ten thousand men.
8
‘O spair me, Claid's water,
Spare me as I gaa!
Make me yer wrak as I come back,
Bat spare me as I gaa!’
9
He raid in, an forder in,
Till he came to the chin;
An he raid in, an forder in,
Till he came to dray lan.
10
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!
