"O haud your tongue, my daughter dear, be still and be content;
There are mair lads in Galloway, ye neen nae sair lament."
O there is none in Gallow, there's none at a' for me;
For I never loved a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.
The French song[35] has a more tender note:—
Low, low he lies who holds my heart,
The sea is rolling fair above;
Go, little bird, and tell him this,—
Go, little bird, and fear no harm,—
Say I am still his faithful love,
Say that to him I stretch my arms.
Another song, widely scattered in varying versions throughout France, is of the forsaken and too trustful maid,—'En revenant des Noces.' The narrative in this, as in the Scottish song, makes it approach the ballad.
Back from the wedding-feast,
All weary by the way,
I rested by a fount
And watched the waters' play;
And at the fount I bathed,
So clear the waters' play;
And with a leaf of oak
I wiped the drops away.
Upon the highest branch
Loud sang the nightingale.
Sing, nightingale, oh sing,
Thou hast a heart so gay!