ANONYMOUS

388.

��WALY, waly, up the bank, And waly, waly, doun the brae, And waly, waly, yon burn-side,

Where I and my Love wont to gae ! I lean'd my back unto an aik,

I thocht it was a trustie tree ; But first it bow'd and syne it brak Sae my true love did lichtlie me.

O waly, waly, gin love be bonnie

A little time while it is new ! But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld,

And fades awa' like morning dew. O wherefore should I busk my heid,

Or wherefore should I kame my hair ? For my true Love has me forsook,

And says he'll never lo'e me mair.

Now Arthur's Seat sail be my bed,

The sheets sail ne'er be 'filed by me ; Saint Anton's well sail be my drink ;

Since my true Love has forsaken me. Marti'mas wind, when wilt thou blaw,

And shake the green leaves afT the tree ? O gentle Death, when wilt thou come ?

For of my life I am wearie.

'Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie,

'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry ; But my Love's heart grown cauld to me.

�� �