The red that's on my true love's cheek
Is like blood-drops on the snaw;
The white that is on her breast bare,
Like the down o' the white sea-maw.
And even at my love's bour-door
There grows a flowering birk;[#]
And ye maun sit and sing thereon
As she gangs to the kirk.
[#] birch.
And four-and-twenty fair ladyes
Will to the Mass repair;
But weel may ye my ladye ken,
The fairest ladye there."
Lord William has written a love-letter,
Put it under his pinion grey;
An' he is awa' to Southern land
As fast as wings can gae.
And even at the ladye's bour[#]
There grew a flowering birk;
And he sat down and sung thereon
As she gaed to the kirk.
[#] bower.
And weel he kent that ladye fair
Amang her maidens free,
For the flower that springs in May morning
Was not sae sweet as she.
He lighted at the ladye's yate[#]
And sat him on a pin,[#]
And sang fu' sweet the notes o' love,
Till a' was cosh[#] within.
[#] gate.
[#] pine.
[#] quiet.
And first he sang a low low note,
And syne[#] he sang a clear;
And aye the o'erword[#] o' the sang
Was—"Your love can no win here."
[#] then.
[#] refrain.
"Feast on, feast on, my maidens a',
The wine flows you amang,
While I gang to my shot-window
And hear yon bonnie bird's sang.
Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,
The sang ye sung yestreen,
For weel I ken, by your sweet singing
Ye are frae my true love sen."[#]
[#] sent.