The Book of Scottish Song/Willie's drowned in Yarrow

Willie’s drowned in Yarrow.

[This is a fragment of a very old and pathetic song.]

Doun in yon garden sweet and gay,
Where bonnie grows the lilie,
I heard a fair maid, sighing, say,
"My wish be wi' sweet Willie!

O Willie's rare, and Willie's fair,
And Willie's wondrous bonnie;
And Willie hecht to marry me,
Gin e'er he married ony.

But Willie's gone, whom I thought on,
And does not hear me weeping:
Draws many a tear frae true love's e'e,
When other maids are sleeping.

Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid,
The nicht I'll mak' it narrow,
For, a' the live-lang winter nicht,
I lie twined o' my marrow.

Oh gentle wind, that bloweth south,
From where my love repaireth,
Convey a kiss frae his deir mouth,
And tell me how he fareth!

O tell sweit Willie to come doun,
And bid him no be cruel;
And tell him no to break the heart
Of his love and only jewel.

O tell sweit Willie to come doun,
And hear the mavis singing;
And see the birds on ilka bush,
And leaves around them hinging.

The lav'rock there, wi' her white breist,
And gentle throat sae narrow;
There's sport eneuch for gentlemen,
On Leader haughs and Yarrow.

O Leader haughs are wide find braid,
And Yarrow haughs are bonnie;
There Willie hecht to marry me,
If e'er he married ony.

O came ye by yon water side?
Pou'd you the rose or lilie?
Or cam' ye by yon meadow green?
Or saw ye my sweit Willie?"

She sought him up, she sought him doun,
She sought the braid and narrow;
Syne, in the cleaving o' a craig,
She found him drowned in Yarrow.

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