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Coble O Cargill 
Coble O Cargill 
DAVID DRUMMOND'S destinie, Gude man o appearance o Cargill; I wat his blude rins in the flude, Sae sair against his parents' will. 
She was the lass o Balathy toun, And he the butler o Stobhall, And mony a time she wauked late To bore the coble o Cargill. 
His bed was made in Kercock ha, Of gude clean sheets and of the hay; He wudna rest ae nicht therein, But on the prude waters he wud gae. 
His bed was made in Balathy toun, Of the clean sheets and of the strae; But I wat it was far better made Into the bottom o bonnie Tay. 
She bored the coble in seven pairts, I wat her heart might hae been fu sair; For there she got the bonnie lad lost Wi the curly locks and the yellow hair. 
He put his foot into the boat, He little thocht o ony ill; But before that he was mid-waters, The weary coble began to fill. 
`Woe be to the lass o Balathy toun, I wat an ill death may she die! For she bored the coble in seven pairts, And let the waters perish me. 
`Oh, help, oh help, I can get nane, Nae help o man can to me come!' This was about his dying words, When he was choaked up to the chin. 
`Gae tell my father and my mother It was naebody did me this ill; 
I was a-going my ain errands, Lost at the coble o bonnie Cargill.' 
She bored the boat in seven pairts, I wat she bored it wi gude will; And there they got the bonnie lad's corpse, In the kirk-shot o bonnie Cargill. 
Oh a' the keys o bonnie Stobha I wat they at his belt did hing; But a' the keys of bonnie Stobha They now ly low into the stream. 
A braver page into his age Neer set a foot upon the plain; His father to his mother said, `Oh, sae soon as we've wanted him! 
`I wat they had mair luve than this When they were young and at the scule; But for his sake she wauked late, And bored the coble o bonnie Cargill.' 
`There's neer a clean sark gae on my back, Nor yet a kame gae in my hair; There's neither coal nor candle-licht Shall shine in my bouir foe evir mair. 
`At kirk nor market I'se neer be at, Nor yet a blythe blink in my ee; There's neer a ane shall say to anither, That's the lassie gard the young man die. 
`Between the yates o bonnie Stobha And the kirk-style o bonnie Cargill, There is mony a man and mother's son That was at my love's burial.' 
Child #242 Version in Child from Motherwell LMP