Were na my heart licht.
[This beautiful and affecting song was the composition of the noble-minded daughter of Sir Patrick Home, (afterwards created Earl of Marchmont,) and wife of George Baillie, Esq. of Jerviswood, in Lanarkshire. Lady Grizzel Baillie was born at Redbraes castle in 1663; was married in 1692; and died at London in 1746. Her Memoirs, by her eldest daughter, Lady Murray of Stanhope, were published posthumously at Edinburgh in 1822. The song appears in the Orpheus Caledonius, printed in 1723, and also in the fourth volume of the Tea-Table Miscellany, printed some years later.]
There was anes a may, and she loo'd na men:
She biggit her bonnie bower doun i' yon glen;
But now she cries Dool, and well-a-day!
Come doun the green gate, and come here away.
But now she cries, &c.
When bonnie young Johnnie cam' ower the sea,
He said he saw naething sae lovely as me;
He hecht me baith rings and monie braw things;
And were na my heart licht I wad dee.
He hecht me, &c.
He had a wee titty that loo'd na me,
Because I was twice as bonnie as she;
She rais'd such a pother 'twixt him and his mother,
That were na my heart licht I wad dee.
She rais'd, &c.
The day it was set, and the bridal to be:
The wife took a dwam, and lay down to dee.
She main'd, and she graned, out o' dolour and pain,
Till he vow'd he never wad see me again.
She main'd, &c.
His kin was for ane of a higher degree,
Said, What had he to do wi' the like of me?
Albeit I was bonnie, I was na for Johnnie:
And were na my heart licht I wad dee.
Albeit I was bonnie, &c.
They said I had neither cow nor calf,
Nor dribbles o' drink rins through the draff,
Nor pickles o' meal rins through the mill-e'e;
And were na my heart licht I wad dee.
Nor pickles, &c.
His titty she was baith wylie and slee,
She spied me as I cam' ower the lea;
And then she ran in, and made a loud din;
Believe your ain een an ye trow na me.
And then she ran in, &c.
His bonnet stood aye fu' round on his brow;
His auld ane look'd aye as weel as some's new;
But now he lets 't wear ony gate it will hing,
And casts himself dowie upon the corn-bing.
But now he, &c.
And now he gaes daundrin' about the dykes,
And a' he dow do is to hund the tykes:
The live-lang nicht he ne'er steeks his e'e;
And were na my heart licht I wad dee.
The live-lang nicht, &c.
Were I young for thee, as I ha'e been,
We should ha'e been gallopin' down on yon green,
And linkin' it on yon lilie-white lea;
And wow! gin I were but young for thee!
And linkin' it, &c.