Sweet Willie of Liddesdale- Jamieson (Mor) 1806
[From Popular Ballads and Songs, from Tradition, Manuscripts, and Scarce, Volume 1, by R. Jamieson, 1806. This is a recreation by Jamieson based on Mrs. Brown's MS (Child Ab). His notes follow,
R. Matteson 2018]
SWEET WILLIE OF LIDDESDALE.
This is the copy of “Willie's Lady” mentioned by Mr Scott in his Border Minstrelsy, vol. ii. p. 27. As it was written before the author knew any thing of either Mr Scott's undertaking, or Mr Lewis's Tales of Wonder, and as it differs so materially from the copies given to the world by both these gentlemen, no apology can be required for publishing it here. The copy, from which it was made up, will be found verbatim in the Appendix to this work. The admirers, moreover, of Mr Lewis's genius as a writer of ballads, will readily perceive, that as the author was altogether unconscious of the existence of his production, there could be no rivalry intended on his part; and as they have pursued such different tracts in adapting this simple tale of other times to the taste of their more poetical readers, there can be no fair ground of comparison between pieces so totally independent of each
other.
SWEET WILLIE OF LIDDESDALE.
Sweet Willie, the flower of Liddesdale,
Has ta'en him o'er the saut-sea faem,
And he's doen him to foreign lands,
And he's wooed a wife, and brocht her hame.
And mony a may in Liddesdale
Did sadly sich to see that tide;
But never a may in Liddesdale
Was half sae comely as his bride.
For lovely-sweet fair Alice was,
And bonnie yellow was her hair; .
And happy happy mith she been,
But his mither wrocht her mickle care.
His mother wrocht her mickle care,
And mickle dollour gart her dree;
For her young bairnie maun be born,
And lichter can she never be.
Sad in her bower fair Alice sits,
And sair, Oh, sair sair is her pain
And sair and waefu' is his heart,
While Willie mourns o'er her in vain.
And he has hied him to his mither,
That vilest witch o' vilest kin;
He says, “My lady has a girdle,
A diamonds out, and goud within;
“And ay at ilka siller hem
Hings fifty siller bells and ten:
Oh, lat her be lighter o' her young bairn,
And that goodly gift sall be your ain.”
“O’ her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,
Nor ever see an end o'wae;
But she shall die and turn to clay, .
And ye sall wed anither may.”
“Anither may I'll never wed,
Anither love I'll never ken;”—
But sadly sicht that weary wicht,
“I wish my days were at an en'.
He did him till his mither again,
And said, “My lady has a steed,
White as the drift, as raebuck swift;
His like's nae in the lands o' Leed;
For he is siller-shod before,
And he is gouden-shot behin’;
And at ilka tate o’ that horse’ mane
Is a gouden chess and bell ringin'.
“And mickle did ye roose his speed,
Whan at the ring he ran sae swift;
Oh, lat her be lighter o' her young bairn,
And yours sall be that goodly gift.”
“O’ her young bairn, she's ne'er be lichter,
Nor ever see an end o' wae;
But she shall die and gae to clay,
And ye shall wed anither may.”
“Oh mither, an’ woman's heart ye bear,
Tak ruth upon a mither's pine;
Tak ruth on your ain flesh and blood,
Nor lat her sakeless bairnie tine:
“And it shall live your oy to be;
To chear your eild in mony a stead;
And sain wi' bennisons your truff,
Whan in the mools your banes are laid.”
“Awa, awa! for never she
Or imp or oy to me shall hae;
But they sall die and turn to clay,
And ye sall wed anither may.”
“O mither, preed ye e'er o’love,
And can ye bid me love again?
And can she brak her Willie's heart
For him wha dreed a mither's pain?
“And can ye thole to kill your son,
Your only hope, wi' ruthless rage,
Syne fa yoursel, like blastit tree,
Widdert wi' curses in your age?”
“Awa, awa! what blacker curse,
Nor uncomplyin' bairn can be
O her young bairn she's never be lighter,
Nor ever an end o' dolour see!”
Then out it spak the Billy Blin',
Of Liddis Lord that ay took care:
“Then ye do buy a leaf o' wax,
And kiauve it weel, and mould it fair;"
“And shape it bairn and bairnlie-like,
And in twa glazen een ye pit;
Wi’ haly water synd it o'er,
And by the haly rood sain it;
“And carry it to fair Alice’ bower,
And Ave Mary nine times say;
Syne in the Lady Mither's name,
In Alice' arms the image lay;
“And ilka knot and bolt undo
Fair Alice bower that is within [];
And do you to your mither then,
And bid her to your boy's christnin';
“For dear's the boy to you he's been
Then notice weel what she will dae;
And do you stand a little forby,
And listen weel what she will say.”
Now Willie has a his bidden done;
In good time ay he gae warnin';
And he's doen him to his mither then,
And bidden her to his boy's christnin'.
“O wha has loos'd the nine witch knots
Amang that lady's locks sae fair?
And wha the kembs o' care ta'en out,
That was amang that lady's hair.
"And wha has kill'd the master kid,"
That ran aneath the lady's bed;
And wha has loos'd her left foot shoe,
And that young lady lighter made?”
Then out it spak the Billy Blin',
As, ay at hand, he harkit near;
(And the witch did quak in lith and limb
The wierd o' Billy Blin' to hear:)
“O Willie has loos'd the nine witch knots,
Amang that lady's locks sae fair;
And the kembs o' care he has ta'en out,
That was amang that lady's hair;
“And he has killed the master kid,
That ran aneath that lady's bed;
And he has loosed her left-foot shoe,
And his dear lady lichter made;
“And thou, the fellest hag on mold,
A mither's name that ever bure,
Time ne'er shall slock the fiery pangs
I'll garthy burning heart endure.”