|
134 "WALT, "WALT, BUT LOVE BE BONNT.
Saint Anton's well shall be my drink,
Since my true love has forsaken me. ■
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree ?
0 gentle death, when wilt thou come ? For of my life I'm weary.
"Tis not the frost that freezes fell, a
Nor blawing snaw's inclemency;
'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my love's heart grown cauld to me.
When we came in by Glasgow town,
"We were a comely sight to see ; so
My love was clad in the black velvet, And I my sell in cramasie.
But had I wist, before I kiss'd, That love had been sae ill to win,
I'd lock'd my heart in a case of gold, * And pin'd it with a silver pin.
Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee,
And I my sell were dead and gane!
For a maid again I'll never be. 40 |
||