|
And the sun goes over the woods |
|
There was a sister and her brother |
|
Who loved one another |
|
Sister, we'll gang tae the broom |
|
O sister I would lay thee doon |
|
Brother, alas, would you do so |
|
To my death I would sooner go |
|
And the folk they talk together |
|
That the lass is with bairn to her brother |
|
O brother you have done me ill |
|
And we will both burn on yonder hill |
|
You go to my father's stable |
|
And take twa horses stout and able |
|
She's up on the white horse, he's on the black |
|
With his yew tree bow slung fast to his back |
|
They had not rode a mile but one |
|
When her pains they did come on |
|
I would give all my father's land |
|
For a good midwife at my command |
|
You go to yon hill so high |
|
And take your bow, arrows and good eye |
|
When you hear my loud, loud cry |
|
Bend your bow and let me die |
|
When he heard her loud, loud cry |
|
He bent his bow and let her die |
|
When he came to her side |
|
The babe was born and the lady died |
|
Then he took his young, young son |
|
And borne him to a milk woman |
|
He's given himself a wound for sure |
|
He won't gang tae the broom no more |
|
0 mother I have lost my knife |
|
I loved it better than my life |
|
But I have lost a better thing |
|
The bonnie sheath my knife was in |
|
And the sun goes over the woods |