O waly, waly, up the bank,|
O waly, waly, down the brae.
And waly, waly, yon burn side,
Where I and my love wont to gae.
I leaned my back unto an aik,
An' thocht it was a trustie tree,
But first it bow'd and syne it brak,
Sae my true love did lichtly me.
2. O waly, waly, but love is bonnie
3. Now Arthur's Seat shall be my bed,|
The sheets shall ne'er be pressed by me,
St. 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!
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come?
For of my life I am wearie!
4. 'Tis not the frost that freezes fell,
5. But had I wist before I kist|
That love had been sae ill to win,
I'd locked my heart in a case of gold,
And pinned it wi' a siller pin.
Oh, oh! if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee;
And I myself were dead and gane,
And the green grass growing over me!
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