‘The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin’ worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o’ our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.
‘Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass
That kindles my mother’s fire!’
THE DOWIE DENS OF YARROW
Late at e’en, drinking the wine
And e’er they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.
‘O stay at hame, my noble lord,
O stay at hame, my marrow!
My cruel brother will you betray
On the dowie houms of Yarrow.’
‘O fare ye weel, my lady gay!
O fare ye weel, my Sarah!
For I maun gae, though I ne’er return
Frae the dowie banks of Yarrow.’
She kissed his cheek, she kaimed his hair,
As oft she had done before, O;
She belted him with his noble brand,
And he’s awa to Yarrow.
As he gaed up the Terries’ bank,
I wot he gaed with sorrow,
Till down in a den he spied nine armed men
On the dowie houms of Yarrow.
‘O, come ye here to part your land,
The bonnie forest thorough?
Or come ye here to wield your brand
On the dowie houms of Yarrow?’
‘I come not here to part my land,
And neither to beg or borrow;
I come to wield my noble brand
On the bonnie banks of Yarrow.