Bonny Barbara Allan (1823)/Yarrow braes

For other versions of this work, see I Dream'd a Dreary Dream.

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YARROW.

I dream'd a dreary dream last night;
God keep us a' frae sorrow!
I dream'd I pu'd the birk sae green,
Wi' my true love on Yarrow.

I'll read your dream, my sister dear,
I'll tell you a' your sorrow:
Ye pu'd the birk wi' your true luve:
He's kill'd, he's kill'd on Yarrow.

O gentle wind that blows th south
To where my love repaireth,
Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,
And tell me how he fareth!

But o'er yon glen run arm'd men.
Have wrought me dool and sorrow:
They've slain, they've slain the comliest swain
He bleeding lies on Yarrow.