5 ΙΟ 15 SCOTCH SONGS AND BALLADS WILLIAM AND MARGARET (Claimed by David Mallet [Malloch]) "TWAS at the silent solemn hour, Her face was like an April morn That held her sable shroud. So shall the fairest face appear, Her bloom was like the springing flower, That sips the silver dew; The rose was budded in her cheek, But love had, like the canker-worm, The rose grew pale, and left her cheek, 'Awake!' she cried, 'thy true love calls, Come from her midnight grave: Now let thy pity hear the maid Thy love refused to save. 'This is the dark and dreary hour When injured ghosts complain; When yawning graves give up their dead, 20 25 'Bethink thee, William, of thy fault, Why did you swear my eyes were bright, 35 'How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break? 40 45 50 55 60 Why did you say my lip was sweet, And why did I, young, witless maid! 'That face, alas! no more is fair, Those lips no longer red: Dark are my eyes, now closed in death, 'The hungry worm my sister is; And cold and weary lasts our night, Till that last morn appear. 'But hark! the cock has warned me hence; A long and last adieu! Come see, false man, how low she lies, Who died for love of you.' The lark sung loud; the morning smiled Pale William quaked in every limb, And raving left his bed. He hied him to the fatal place Where Margaret's body lay; And stretched him on the green-grass turf That wrapt her breathless clay. THE smiling morn, the breathing spring, Let us, Amanda, timely wise, Like them, improve the hour that flies; For soon the winter of the year, 5 ΤΟ 15 ΙΟ 15 WILLIAM HAMILTON THE BRAES OF YARROW A. BUSK ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride; And think nae mair on the Braes of Yarrow. 5 B. Where gat ye that bonnie, bonnie bride? Where gat ye that winsome marrow? A. I gat her where I darena weil be seen, Pu'ing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow. Weep not, weep not, my bonnie, bonnie bride; Pu'ing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow. B. Why does she weep, thy bonnie, bonnie bride? Why does she weep, thy winsome marrow? And why dare ye nae mair weil be seen, Pu'ing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow? A. Lang maun she weep, lang maun she, maun she weep, Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow, |