4
O Mary, dear, lament nae mair.
I'm in death’s thraws below the sea
Thy weeping makes me sad in bliss,
Sae, Mary, weep nae mair for me!
The wind slept when we left the bay,
But soon it waked and raised the main,
And God he bore us down the deep,
Who wi’ him but strave in vain!
He stretched his arm, and took me up,
Though laith I was to gang but thee
I look frae heaven aboon the storm,
Sae, Mary, weep nae mair for me.
Take off these bride sheets frae thy bed,
Which thou hast faulded down for me;
Unrobe thee of thy earthly store,
I’ll meet wi’ thee in heaven hie.
Three times the gray cock clapt his wing,
To mark the morning lift her ee,
And then the parting spirit said,
Sweet Mary, weep nae mair for me.
SIR JOHN THE GRAME.
t was in and about the Martinmas time
When the green leaves were a-falling,
That Sir John Grame o‘ the west country
Fell in love with Barbara Allan
He sent his man down through the town,
To the place where he was dwelling,
O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.
