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TAM-A-LINE. |
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" I will pou the rose, the rose, And I will brake the tree; Charter-woods are a' my ain, I'll ask nae leave o' thee."
He's taen her by the milk-white hand, 25
And by the grass-green sleeve; And laid her low on gude green wood,
At her he spier'd nae leave.
When he had got his will o' her,
His will as he had ta'en, so
He's ta'en her by the middle sma',
Set her to feet again.
She turn'd her richt and round about,
To spier her true love's name, But naething heard she, nor naething saw, ss
As a' the woods grew dim.
Seven days she tarried there,
Saw neither sun nor muin ; At length, by a sma' glimmerin' licht,
Came thro' the wood her lane. «
When she came to her father's court,
Was fine as ony queen; But when eight months were past and gane,
Got on the gown o' green.
Then out it speaks an eldren knicht, «
As he stood at the yett; Our king's dochter, she gaes wi' bairn,
And we'll get a' the wyte." |
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