It's Lamkin was a mason good

As ever built with stane,

He built Lord Wearies castle,

But payment gat he nane.

"O pay me, Lord Wearie;

Come pay me my fee."

"I canna pay you Lamkin,

For I maun gang o'er the sea."

"O pay me now, Lord Wearie;

Come, pay me out o' hand."

"I canna pay you, Lamkin,

Unless I sell my land."

"O gin ye winna pay me,

I here sall mak a vow,

Before that ye come hame again,

Ye sall ha'e cause to rue."

Lord Wearie got a bonny ship,

To sail the saut sea faem;

Bade his lady weel the castle keep,

Ay till he should come hame.

But the nourice was a fause limmer

As e'er hung on a tree;

She laid a plot wi' Lamkin,

When her lord was o'er the sea.

She laid a plot wi' Lamkin,

When the servants were awa';

Let him in at a little shot window,

And brought him to the ha.

"O where's a' the men o' this house,

That ca' me Lamkin?"

"They're at the barn well thrashing,

'Twill be lang ere they come in."

"And where's the women o' this house,

That ca' me Lamkin?"

"They're at the far well washing;

'Twill be lang ere they come in."

"And where's the bairns o' this house,

That ca' me Lamkin?"

"They're at the school reading;

'Twill be night or they come hame."=

"O where's the lady o' this house,

That ca's me Lamkin?"

"She's up in her bower sewing,

But we soon can bring her down."

Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife,

That hang down by his gair,

And he has gi'en the bonny babe

A deep wound and a sair.

Then Lamkin he rocked,

And the fause nourice sang,

Till frae ilka bore o' the cradle

The red blood out sprang.

Then out it spak the lady,

As she stood on the stair,

"What ails my bairn, nourice,

That he's greeting sae sair?

"O still my bairn, nourice;

O still him wi' the pap!"

"He winna still, lady,

For this, nor for that."

"O still my bairn, nourice;

O still him wi' the wand!"

"He winna still, lady,

For a' his fathers land."

"O still my bairn, nourice,

O still him wi' the bell!"

"He winna still, lady,

Till ye come down yoursel'."

O the firsten step she steppit,

She steppit on a stane;

But the neisten step she steppit,

She met him, Lamkin.

"O mercy, mercy, Lamkin!

Ha'e mercy upon me!

Though you've ta'en my young son's life,

Ye may let mysel' be."

"O sall I kill her, nourice?

Or sall I lat her be?"

"O kill her, kill her, Lamkin,

For she ne'er was good to me."

"O scour the basin, nourice,

And mak it fair and clean,

For to keep this lady's heart's blood,

For she's come o' noble kin."

"There need nae basin, Lamkin;

Let it run through the floor;

What better is the heart's blood

O' the rich than o' the poor?"

But ere three months were at an end,

Lord Wearie came again -,

But dowie dowie was his heart

When first he came hame.

"O wha's blood is this," he says,

"That lies in the chÂmer?"

"It is your lady's heart's blood;

Tis as clear as the lamer."

"And wha's blood is this," he says,

"That lies in my ha'?"

"It is your young son's heart's blood;

'Tis the clearest ava'."

O sweetly sang the black-bird

That sat upon the tree;

But sairer grat Lamkin,

When he was condemn'd to die.

And bonny sang the mavis

Out o' the thorny brake;

But sairer grat the nourice,

When she was tied to the stake.