A
a. Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1824, p. 18. b. Communicated by the late John Francis Campbell, as learned from his father about 1840. c. Aungervyle Society’s publications, No V, p. 5 (First Series, p. 85); “taken down early in the present century from the lips of an old lady in Annandale.”
1
Word’s gane to the kitchen,
And word’s gane to the ha,
That Marie Hamilton gangs wi bairn
To the hichest Stewart of a’.
2
He’s courted her in the kitchen,
He’s courted her in the ha,
He’s courted her in the laigh cellar,
And that was warst of a’.
3
She’s tyed it in her apron
And she’s thrown it in the sea;
Says, Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe!
You’l neer get mair o me.
4
Down then cam the auld queen,
Goud tassels tying her hair:
‘O Marie, where’s the bonny wee babe
That I heard greet sae sair?’
5
‘There never was a babe intill my room,
As little designs to be;
It was but a touch o my sair side,
Come oer my fair bodie.’
6
‘O Marie, put on your robes o black,
Or else your robes o brown,
For ye maun gang wi me the night,
To see fair Edinbro town.’
7
‘I winna put on my robes o black,
Nor yet my robes o brown;
But I’ll put on my robes o white,
To shine through Edinbro town.’
8
When she gaed up the Cannogate,
She laughd loud laughters three;
But whan she cam down the Cannogate
The tear blinded her ee.
9
When she gaed up the Parliament stair,
The heel cam aff her shee;
And lang or she cam down again
She was condemnd to dee.
10
When she cam down the Cannogate,
The Cannogate sae free,
Many a ladie lookd oer her window,
Weeping for this ladie.
11
‘Ye need nae weep for me,’ she says,
‘Ye need nae weep for me;
For had I not slain mine own sweet babe,
This death I wadna dee.
12
‘Bring me a bottle of wine,’ she says,
‘The best that eer ye hae,
That I may drink to my weil-wishers,
And they may drink to me.
13
‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,
That sail upon the main;
Let them never let on to my father and mother
But what I’m coming hame.
14
‘Here’s a health to the jolly sailors,
That sail upon the sea;
Let them never let on to my father and mother
That I cam here to dee.
15
‘Oh little did my mother think,
The day she cradled me,
What lands I was to travel through,
What death I was to dee.
16
‘Oh little did my father think,
The day he held up me,
What lands I was to travel through,
What death I was to dee.
17
‘Last night I washd the queen’s feet,
And gently laid her down;
And a’the thanks I’ve gotten the nicht
To be hangd in Edinbro town!
18
‘Last nicht there was four Maries,
The nicht there’l be but three;
There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beton,
And Marie Carmichael, and me.’