Curst be the heart that thought the thought,
And curst the hand that fired the shot,
When in my arms burd Helen dropt,
And died for sake o’ me!
O think na but my heart was sair
When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair;
I laid her down wi’ meikle care
On fair Kirconnell lea.
As I went down the water-side,
None but my foe to be my guide,
None but my foe to be my guide,
On fair Kirconnell lea;
I lighted down my sword to draw,
I hacked him in pieces sma’,
I hacked him in pieces sma’,
For her that died for me.
O Helen fair, beyond compare!
I’ll make a garland of thy hair
Shall bind my heart for evermair
Until the day I die.
O that I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,
Says, ‘Haste and come to me!’
O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!
If I were with thee, I were blest,
Where thou liest low and tak’st thy rest
On fair Kirconnell lea.
I wish my grave were growing green,
A winding-sheet drawn ower my een,
And I in Helen’s arms lying,
On fair Kirconnell lea.
I wish I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
And I am weary of the skies,
Since my Love died for me.