Willie's Ladye
Willie has ta'en him o'er the faem,
He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame;
He's wooed her for her yellow hair,
But his mother wrought her meikle care;
And meikle dolour gar'd her dree,
For lighter she can never be;
But in her bow'r she sits with pain,
And Willie mourns o'er her in vain.
And to his mother he has gane,
That vile rank witch, of vilest kind!
He says--'My lady has a cup,
With gowd and silver set about;
This gudely gift shall be your ain,
And let her be lighter of her bairn.'
'Of her bairn she's never be lighter,
Nor in her bow'r to shine the brighter
But she shall die, and turn to clay,
And you shall wed another may.'
'Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll never bring hame.'
But, sighing, said that weary wight--
'I wish my life were at an end.'
'Yet gae ye to your mother again,
That vile rank witch, of vilest kind
And say, your ladye has a steed,
The like of him's no in the land of Leed.
'For he is silver shod before,
And he is gowden shod behind;
At every tuft of that horse mane
There's a golden chess, and a bell to ring.
This gudely gift shall be her ain,
And let me be lighter of my bairn.'
'Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,
Nor in her bow'r to shine the brighter;
But she shall die, and turn to clay,
And ye shall wed another may.'
'Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll never bring hame.'
But, sighing, said that weary wight--
I wish my life were at an end!'
'Yet gae ye to your mother again,
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Lang
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
