Child Waters
No: 63; variant: 63E
- 'I BEG you bide at hame, Margaret,
An sew your silken seam;
If ye waur in the wide Hielands,
Ye wald be owre far frae hame.'
- 'I winna bide a hame,' she said,
'Nor sew my silken seam;
For if I waur in the wide Hielands,
I wald no be owre far frae hame.'
- 'My steed sall drink the blude-red wine,
An you the water wan;
I'll mak you sigh, an say, alace,
That ever I loed a man!'
- 'Though your steed does drink the blude-red wine,
An me the water wan,
Yet will I sing, an merry be,
That ever I loed a man.'
- 'My hounds shall eat the bread o wheat,
An you the bread o bran;
I'll mak you sigh, an say, alace,
That ever you loed Lord John!'
- 'Though your hounds do eat the bread o wheat,
An me the bread o bran,
Yet will I sing, an merrie be,
That ever I loed Lord John.'
- He turned aboot his high horse head,
An awa he was boun to ride;
She kilted up her green clieden,
An after him she gaed.
- Whan they cam to that water
Whilk a' man ca the Clyde,
He turned aboot his high horse head,
Said, Ladie, will you ride?
- 'I learnt it in my mother's bour,
I wish I had learnt it weel,
That I could swim this wan water
As weel as fish or eel.'
- Whan at the middle o that water,
She sat doon on a stone;
He turned aboot his high horse head,
Says, Ladie, will ye loup on?
- 'I learnt in my mother's bour,
I wish I had learnt it better,
That I culd swim this wan water
As weel as eel or otter.'
- He has taen the narrow ford,
An she has taen the wide;
Lang, lang ere he was at the middle,
She was sittin at the ither side.
- . . . . .
. . . . .
Wi sighen said that Fair Margaret,
Alace, I'm far frae hame!
- 'Hoo mony miles is't to your castle?
Noo Lord John, tell to me;'
'Hoo mony miles is't to my castle?
It's thirty miles an three:'
Wi sighen said that Fair Margaret,
It'll never be gane by me!
- But up it spak the wily bird,
As it sat on the tree,
'Rin on, rin on noo, Fair Margaret,
It scarcely miles is three.'
- Whan they cam to the wide Hielands,
An lichted on the green,
Every an spak Erse to anither,
But Margaret she spak nane.
- Whan they waur at table set,
An birlin at the best,
Margaret set at a bye-table,
An fain she wald hain rest.
- 'Oh mither, mither, mak my bed
Wi clean blankets an sheets,
An lay my futeboy at my feet,
The sounder I may sleep.'
- She has made Lord John his bed,
Wi clean blankets an sheets,
An laid his futeboy at his feet,
But neer a wink culd he sleep.
- 'Win up, win up noo, Fair Margaret,
An see that my steed has meat;
See that his corn is in his travisse,
Nor lyin amang his feet.'
- Slowly, slowly rase she up,
An slowly put she on,
An slowly gaed she doon the stair,
Aye makin a heavy moan.
- 'An asken, an asken, gude Lord John,
I pray you grant it me;
For the warst bed in a' your hoose,
To your young son an me.'
- 'Your asken is but sma, Margaret,
Sune grantet it shall be;
For the best bed in a' my hoose
Is owre little for thee.'
- 'An asken, an asken, gude Lord John,
I pray you grant it me;
For the warst ale in a' your hoose,
That ye wald gie to me.'
- 'Your asken is but sma, Margaret,
Sune grantet it sall be;
For the best wine in a' my hoose
Is owre little for thee.
- 'But cheer up your heart noo, Fair Margaret,
For, be it as it may,
Your kirken an your fair weddin
Sall baith be on one day.'