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Lament of Barbara^ Marchioness of Douglas
O waly, waly, up the bank,
And waly, waly, doun the brae, And waly, waly, yon burn-side,
Where I and my Love wont to gae!
I lean'd my back unto an aik,
[ thocht it was a trustie tree; But first it bow'd and syne it brak— Sae my true love did lichtlie me.
O waly, waly, gin love be bonnie
A little time while it is new ! But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld,
And fades awa' like morning dew.
O wherefore should I busk my heid, Or wherefore should I kame my hair ?
For my true Love has me forsook, And says he'll never lo'e me mair,
Now Arthur's Seat sail be my bed, The sheets sail ne'er be 'filed by me;
Saint Anton's well sail be my drink ; Since my true Love has forsaken me.
Marti'mas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves aff the tree ?
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come ? For of my life I am wearie. lichtlie] slight, treat with disrespect