Jim Crow/Mary of Castlecary

MARY OF CASTLECARY.

Saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing?
Saw ye my true love down by yon lea?
Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloaming,
Sought she the burnie whare flowers the haw free?
Her hair it is lint-white, her skin it is milk-white,
Dark is the blue o’ her saft-rolling e’e,
Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses,
Where could my wee thing wander frae me?

I saw your ain Mary, she’s frae Castlecary,
I saw your ain true love down on yon lea,
Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,
Sweet were the kisses that she gae to me.
Sair gloom’d his dark brow, blood red his cheek grew,
Wild flash’d the fire frae his dark rolling e’e;
Ye’ll rue sair this morning your boasts and your scorning,
Defend ye, fause traitor, fu’ loudly ye lie.

Awa wi’ beguiling, cried the youth smiling,
Aff went the bonnet, the lint-white locks flow,
The belted plaid fa’ing, her white bosom shawing,
Fair stood the loved maid wi’ the dark-rolling e’e.
Is it my wee thing? is it my ain thing?
Is it my true love here that I see?
Oh, Jamie! forgie me, your heart’s constant to me,
I’ll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!

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