This ballad is includit in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border 5th edition 1812, 11 427.
It wis taen doon by William Laidlaw frae the recitation o Walter Grieve.
(Ye can click on the link at the end o this this ballad tae doonload it as a pdf.)
‘O where have you been, my long, long love,
This long seven years and mair?’
‘O I’m come to seek my former vows
Ye graunted me before.’
‘O hold your tongue of your former vows,
For they will breed sad strife;
O hold your tongue of your former vows,
For I am become a wife.’
He turned him right and round about
And the tear blinded his ee:
‘I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground,
If it had not been for thee.’
‘I might hae had a king’s daughter,
Far, far beyond the sea;
I might have had a king’s daughter,
Had it not been for love o thee.’
‘If ye might have had a king’s daughter,
Yer sel ye had to blame;
Ye might have taken the king’s daughter,
For ye kend that I was nane.’
‘If I was to leave my husband dear,
And my two babes also,
O what have you to take me to
If with you I should go?
‘I hae seven ships upon the sea -
The eighth brought me to land-
Wi four-and-twenty bold mariners
And music on every hand.’
She set her foot upon the ship,
No mariners could she behold;
But the sails were o the taffetie
And the masts o the beaten gold.
She had not sailed a league, a league,
A league but barely three,
When dismal drew his countenance,
And drumlie grew his ee.
They had not sailed a league, a league,
A league but barely three
Until she espied his cloven foot
And she wept right bitterlie.
‘O hold your tongue of your weeping,’ says he
‘Of your weeping now let me be;
I will show you how the lilies grow
On the banks of Italy.'
‘O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,
That the sun shines sweetly on?’
‘O yon hills of heaven,’ he said,
‘Where you will never win.’
‘O whaten a mountain is yon,’ she said,
‘All so dreary wi frost and snow?’
‘O yon is the mountain of hell,’ he cries,
‘Where you and I will go.’
He strack up the tap-mast wi hi hand,
The fore-mast wi his knee,
And he brake that gallant ship in twain,
And sank her in the sea.
drumlie: troubled, gloomy
taffetie: material, possibly light silk
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