< Page:Posthumous poems (IA posthumousswinb00swin).pdf
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WESTLAND WELL
O haud your tongue, Lord John o' the Mains,
I doubt ye hae drunken wine;
There is not a maid that wons in heaven
Wi' sic a face as mine.
I doubt ye hae drunken wine;
There is not a maid that wons in heaven
Wi' sic a face as mine.
Gin I were set in the high heaven,
And God's mother were set below,
I wad be queen of the high heaven,
And she wad be let go.
And God's mother were set below,
I wad be queen of the high heaven,
And she wad be let go.
When she cam in Lord John's bower,
She never had kissed man:
When she cam frae Lord John's bower
She was but his leman.
She never had kissed man:
When she cam frae Lord John's bower
She was but his leman.
O ye'll gar make me a bonny bed,
Ye'll make it warm and sweet,
Ye'll set a pillow to my head, mither,
And a pillow to my feet.
Ye'll make it warm and sweet,
Ye'll set a pillow to my head, mither,
And a pillow to my feet.
It fell about the middle May time
When the apple flowers wax red,
Her mither began to chide with her
She kept sae lang abed.
When the apple flowers wax red,
Her mither began to chide with her
She kept sae lang abed.
I canna stand to walk, mither,
But I'm just like to die,
And wae be to your bonny bloodhound
That bit me by the knee.
But I'm just like to die,
And wae be to your bonny bloodhound
That bit me by the knee.
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