THE MOURNFUL
TRAGEDY OF GILL MORICE.
Gill Morice was an Earl's ſon,
his name it waxed wide;
It was not for his great riches,
nor yet his meikle pride:
His face was fair, lang was his hair,
in the wild ⟨wood⟩ he ſtaid,
But his fame was a fair lady
that liv'd on Carron-ſide.
Where will I get a ⟨bonny⟩ boy,
that will win hoſe and ſhoon,
That will gae to Lord Barnard's ha',
and bid his Lady come?
Ye maun rin this errard, Willie,
and ye maun rin wi' pride,
When other boys gae on their feet,
on horſe-back ye ſhall ride.
O no! O no! my maſter dear!
I dare not for my life;
I'll no gae to the bauld Baron's,
for to tryſt forth his wife.
My bird Willie, my boy Willie,
my dear Willie, he ſaid,
How can you ſtrive againſt the ſtream,
for I ſhall be obey'd?
