The Bonny Lass of Lochvoyan, or Lochvoyen
THE LASS OF ROCH ROYAL—B
[_]
Herd's MS, I, 144; II, 60, the first ten lines; Herd's
Scottish Songs, 1776, I, 149.
1
‘O wha will shoe thy bonny feet?
Or wha will glove thy hand?
Or wha will lace thy midle jimp,
With a lang, lang London whang?
2
‘And wha will kame thy bonny head,
With a tabean brirben kame?
And wha will be my bairn's father,
Till Love Gregory come hame?’
3
‘Thy father'll shoe his bonny feet,
Thy mither'll glove his hand;
Thy brither will lace his middle jimp,
With a lang, lang London whang.
4
‘Mysel will kame his bonny head,
With a tabean brirben kame;
And the Lord will be the bairn's father,
Till Love Gregory come hame.’
5
Then she's gart build a bonny ship,
It's a' cored oer with pearl,
And at every needle-tack was in't
There hang a siller bell.
6
And she's awa [OMITTED]
To sail upon the sea;
She's gane to seek Love Gregory,
In lands whereer he be.
7
She hadna saild a league but twa,
O scantly had she three,
Till she met with a rude rover,
Was sailing on the sea.
8
‘O whether is thou the Queen hersel,
Or ane o her maries three?
Or is thou the lass of Lochroyan,
Seeking Love Gregory?’
9
‘O I am not the Queen hersell,
Nor ane o her maries three;
But I am the lass o Lochroyan,
Seeking Love Gregory.
10
‘O sees na thou yone bonny bower?
It's a' cored oer with tin;
When thou hast saild it round about,
Love Gregory is within.’
11
When she had saild it round about,
She tirled at the pin:
‘O open, open, Love Gregory,
Open, and let me in!
For I am the lass of Lochroyan,
Banisht frae a' my kin.’
12
‘If thou be the lass of Lochroyan,
As I know no thou be,
Tell me some of the true tokens
That past between me and thee.’
13
‘Hast thou na mind, Love Gregory,
As we sat at the wine,
We changed the rings aff ither's hands,
And ay the best was mine?
14
‘For mine was o the gude red gould,
But thine was o the tin;
And mine was true and trusty baith,
But thine was fa'se within.
15
‘If thou be the lass of Lochroyan,
As I know na thou be,
Tell me some mair o the true tokens
Past between me and thee.’
16
‘And has na thou na mind, Love Gregory,
As we sat on yon hill,
Thou twin'd me of my [maidenhead,]
Right sair against my will?
17
‘Now open, open, Love Gregory,
Open, and let me in!
For the rain rains on my gude cleading,
And the dew stands on my chin.’
18
Then she has turnd her round about:
‘Well, since that it be sae,
Let never woman that has born a son
Hae a heart sae full of wae.
19
‘Take down, take down that mast o gould,
Set up a mast of tree;
For it dinna become a forsaken lady
To sail so royallie.’
20
‘I dreamt a dream this night, mother,
I wish it may prove true,
That the bonny lass of Lochroyan
Was at the gate just now.’
21
‘Lie still, lie still, my only son,
And sound sleep mayst thou get,
For it's but an hour or little mair
Since she was at the gate.’
22
Awa, awa, ye wicket woman,
And an ill dead may ye die!
Ye might have ither letten her in,
Or else have wakened me.
23
‘Gar saddle to me the black,’ he said,
‘Gar saddle to me the brown;
Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed
That is in a' the town.’
24
Now the first town that he cam to,
The bells were ringing there;
And the neist toun that he cam to,
Her corps was coming there.
25
‘Set down, set down that comely corp,
Set down, and let me see
Gin that be the lass of Lochroyan,
That died for love o me.’
26
And he took out the little penknife
That hang down by his gare,
And he's rippd up her winding-sheet,
A lang claith-yard and mair.
27
And first he kist her cherry cheek,
And syne he kist her chin,
And neist he kist her rosy lips;
There was nae breath within.
28
And he has taen his little penknife,
With a heart that was fou sair,
He has given himself a deadly wound,
And word spake never mair.
