English and Scottish Ballads Volume II Part 16

"O I did get the rose-water Whair ye wull neir get nane, For I did get that very rose-water 95 Into my mithers wame."

The bride she drew a long bodkin Frae out her gay head-gear, And strake fair Annet unto the heart, That word she nevir spak mair. 100

Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale, And marvelit what mote bee: But whan he saw her dear hearts blude, A' wood-wroth wexed hee.

He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp, 105 That was sae sharp and meet, And drave into the nut-browne bride, That fell deid at his feit.

"Now stay for me, dear Annet," he sed, "Now stay, my dear," he cry'd; 110 Then strake the dagger untill his heart, And fell deid by her side.

Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa', Fair Annet within the quiere; And o' the tane thair grew a birk, 115 The other a bonny briere.

And ay they grew, and ay they threw, As they wad faine be neare; And by this ye may ken right weil, They were twa luvers deare. 120

SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR ANNIE

Is another version of the foregoing piece, furnished by Jamieson, _Popular Ballads_, i. 22.

"The text of _Lord Thomas and Fair Annet_," remarks Jamieson, "seems to have been adjusted, previous to its leaving Scotland, by some one who was more of a scholar than the reciters of ballads generally are; and, in attempting to give it an antique cast, it has been deprived of somewhat of that easy facility which is the distinguished characteristic of the traditionary ballad narrative.

With the text of the following ditty, no such experiment has been made. It is here given pure and entire, as it was taken down by the editor, from the recitation of a lady in Aberbrothick, (Mrs. W.

Arrot.) As she had, when a child, learnt the ballad from an elderly maid-servant, and probably had not repeated it for a dozen years before I had the good fortune to be introduced to her, it may be depended upon, that every line was recited to me as nearly as possible in the exact form in which she learnt it."

Mr. Chambers, in conformity with the plan of his work, presents us with an edition composed out of Percy's and Jamieson's, with some amended readings and additional verses from a ma.n.u.script copy, (_Scottish Ballads_, p. 269.)

Sweet Willie and fair Annie Sat a' day on a hill; And though they had sitten seven year, They ne'er wad had their fill.

Sweet Willie said a word in haste, 5 And Annie took it ill: "I winna wed a tocherless maid, Against my parent's will."

"Ye're come o' the rich, Willie, And I'm come o' the poor; 10 I'm o'er laigh to be your bride, And I winna be your wh.o.r.e."

O Annie she's gane till her bower, And Willie down the den; And he's come till his mither's bower, 15 By the lei light o' the moon.

"O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?" he says, "Or are ye the bower within?"

"I sleep richt aft, I wake richt aft;[L19]

What want ye wi' me, son? 20

"Whare hae ye been a' night, Willie?

O wow! ye've tarried lang!"

"I have been courtin' fair Annie, And she is frae me gane.

"There is twa maidens in a bower; 25 Which o' them sall I bring hame?

The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows, And fair Annie has nane."

"It's an ye wed the nut-brown maid, I'll heap gold wi' my hand; 30 But an ye wed her, fair Annie, I'll straik it wi' a wand.

"The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows, And fair Annie has nane; And Willie, for my benison, 35 The nut-brown maid bring hame."

"O I sall wed the nut-brown maid, And I sall bring her hame; But peace nor rest between us twa, Till death sinder's again. 40

"But, alas, alas!" says sweet Willie, "O fair is Annie's face!"

"But what's the matter, my son Willie, She has nae ither grace."

"Alas, alas!" says sweet Willie, 45 "But white is Annie's hand!"

"But what's the matter, my son Willie, She hasna a fur o' land."

"Sheep will die in cots, mither, And owsen die in byre; 50 And what's this warld's wealth to me, An I get na my heart's desire?

"Whare will I get a bonny boy, That wad fain win hose and shoon, That will rin to fair Annie's bower, 55 Wi' the lei light o' the moon?

"Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin', The morn at twal at noon; Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin', The heir o' Duplin town.[L60] 60

"She manna put on the black, the black, Nor yet the dowie brown; But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white, And her bonny locks hangin' down."

He is on to Annie's bower, 65 And tirled at the pin; And wha was sae ready as Annie hersel, To open and let him in.

"Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin', The morn at twal at noon; 70 Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin', The heir of Duplin town.

"Ye manna put on the black, the black, Nor yet the dowie brown; But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white, 75 And your bonny locks hangin' down."

"Its I will come to Willie's weddin', The morn at twal at noon; Its I will come to Willie's weddin', But I rather the ma.s.s had been mine. 80

"Maidens, to my bower come, And lay gold on my hair; And whare ye laid ae plait before, Ye'll now lay ten times mair.

"Taylors, to my bower come, 85 And mak to me a weed; And smiths unto my stable come, And shoe to me a steed."

At every tate o' Annie's horse' mane There hang a silver bell; 90 And there came a wind out frae the south, Which made them a' to knell.

And whan she came to Mary-kirk, And sat down in the deas, The light, that came frae fair Annie, 95 Enlighten'd a' the place.

But up and stands the nut-brown bride, Just at her father's knee; "O wha is this, my father dear, That blinks in Willie's e'e?" 100 "O this is Willie's first true love, Before he loved thee."

"If that be Willie's first true love, He might ha'e latten me be; She has as much gold on ae finger, 105 As I'll wear till I die.

"O whare got ye that water, Annie, That washes you sae white?"

"I got it in my mither's wambe, Whare ye'll ne'er get the like. 110

"For ye've been wash'd in Dunny's well, And dried on Dunny's d.y.k.e; And a' the water in the sea Will never wash ye white."

Willie's ta'en a rose out o' his hat, 115 Laid it in Annie's lap; "[The bonniest to the bonniest fa's,]

Hae, wear it for my sake."

"Tak up and wear your rose, Willie, And wear't wi' mickle care, 120 For the woman sall never bear a son, That will mak my heart sae sair."

Whan night was come, and day was gane, And a' man boun to bed, Sweet Willie and the nut-brown bride 125 In their chamber were laid.