"Why does she weep, thy bonnie, bonnie bride? "Lang maun she weep, long maun she, maun she weep, Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow, And lang maun I nae mair weel be seen Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow. "For she has tint her lover, lover dear, "Why runs thy stream, O Yarrow, reid? Hung on the bonnie birks of Yarrow? "What's yonder floats on the rueful, rueful flood? What's yonder floats? Oh dule and sorrow! Oh! 'tis the comely swain I slew Upon the duleful braes of Yarrow ! "Wash, oh, wash his wounds, his wounds in tears, His wounds in tears, with dule and sorrow, And wrap his limbs in mourning weeds, And lay him on the braes of Yarrow! "Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad, Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow, And weep around in waeful wise His helpless fate on the braes of Yarrow. "Curse ye, curse ye his useless, useless shield, My arm that wrought the deed of sorrow, The fatal spear that pierced his breast, "Did I not warn thee not to love, And warn from fight? but, to my sorrow, O'er-rashly bold, a stronger arm Thou met'st and fell on the braes of Yarrow. "Sweet smells the birk; green grows, green grows the grass, Yellow on Yarrow's braes the gowan, Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowan'. "Flows Yarrow sweet? as sweet, as sweet flows Tweed, As green its grass, its gowan yellow, As sweet smells on its braes the birk, "Fair was thy love! fair, fair indeed thy love! "Busk ye, then, busk, my bonnie, bonnie bride, "How can I busk, a bonnie, bonnie bride? "O Yarrow fields! may never, never rain, "The boy put on his robes, his robes of green, His purple vest, 'twas my ain sewin': Ah, wretched me! I little, little knew, He was in these to meet his ruin. "The boy took out his milk-white, milk-white steed, Unheedful of my dule and sorrow; But, ere the toofal of the night, He lay a corpse on the braes of Yarrow. "Much I rejoiced that waeful, waeful day, "What can my barbarous, barbarous father do, How canst thou, barbarous man, then woo me? “My happy sisters may be, may be proud ; With cruel and ungentle scoffing May bid me seek on Yarrow's braes My lover nailed in his coffin. "My brother Douglas may upbraid, And strive with threatening words to move me; My lover's blood is on thy spear, How canst thou ever bid me love thee? "Yes, yes, prepare the bed, the bed of love, With bridal sheets my body cover; Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door, "But who the expected husband, husband is ? |