For Gilderoy, that luve of mine,
Gude faith, I freely bought
A wedding sark of Holland fine,
Wi' dainty ruffles wrought;
And he gied me a wedding-ring,
Which I received wi' joy;
Nae lad nor lassie e'er could sing
Like me and Gilderoy.
Wi' meikle joy we spent our prime,
Till we were baith sixteen,
And aft we passed the langsam time
Amang the leaves sae green;
Aft on the banks we'd sit us there,
And sweetly kiss and toy;
Wi' garlands gay wad deck my hair
My handsome Gilderoy.
O that he still had been content
Wi' me to lead his life!
But ah, his manfu' heart was bent
To stir in feats of strife.
And he in many a venturous deed
His courage bold wad try;
And now this gars my heart to bleed
For my dear Gilderoy.
And when of me his leave he took,
The tears they wat mine e'e;
I gied him sic a parting look:
"My benison gang wi' thee!
God speed thee weel, my ain dear heart,
For gane is all my joy;
My heart is rent sith we maun part,
My handsome Gilderoy."
The Queen of Scots possessèd nought
That my luve let me want;
For cow and ewe he to me brought,
And e'en when they were scant:
All these did honestly possess,
He never did annoy
Who never failed to pay their cess
To my luve Gilderoy.
My Gilderoy, baith far and near,
Was fear'd in every toun,
And bauldly bare awa' the gear
Of many a lawland loun:
For man to man durst meet him nane,
He was sae brave a boy;
At length with numbers he was ta'en,
My winsome Gilderoy.
Wae worth the loun that made the laws,
To hang a man for gear;
To reive of life for sic a cause,
As stealing horse or mare!
Had not these laws been made sae strick,
I ne'er had lost my joy,
Wi' sorrow ne'er had wat my cheek,
For my dear Gilderoy.
Gif Gilderoy had done amiss,
He might have banished been.
Ah, what sair cruelty is this,
To hang sic handsome men!
To hang the flower o' Scottish land,
Sae sweet and fair a boy!
Nae lady had so white a hand
As thee, my Gilderoy.
Of Gilderoy sae 'fraid they were,
They bound him meikle strong,
To Edinburgh they took him there,
And on a gallows hung:
They hung him high aboon the rest,
He was sae trim a boy;
There died the youth whom I lo'ed best,
My handsome Gilderoy.
Sune as he yielded up his breath,
I bare his corpse away,
Wi' tears that trickled for his death,
I wash'd his comely clay;
And sicker in a grave sae deep
I laid the dear-lo'ed boy;
And now forever I maun weep
My winsome Gilderoy.