13 'But open, open, Love Gregory,
Open, and let me in;
Your young son is in my arms,
He'll be dead ere I win in.'
14 'Had awa, ye ill woman,
Had far awa frae me;
Ye're but some witch, or some warlock,
Or the mermaid, troubling me.
15 'But if ye be my lady Janet,
As I trust not well ye be;
Come tell me o'er some love-token
That past tween thee and me.'
16 'Mind on, mind on, Love Gregory,
Since we sat at the wine;
The shifts that were upon your back,
I gave thee mine for thine.
17 'And mine was o the good holland,
And yours o the silly twine,
And mine's been true, and very true,
But yours had fause lynin.'
* * * * *
H
Communicated by Mr G. C. Mahon, of Ann Arbor, Michigan, as sung by a laborer, at Tyrrelspass, West Meath, Ireland, about 1830.
1 'Oh who'll comb my yellow locks,
With the brown berry comb?
And who'll be the child's father,
Until Gregory comes home?'
2 'Oh ...
. . . . . . .
And God will be the child's father,
Until Gregory comes home.'