  Down in yon garden sweet and gay Where bonnie grows the lily, I heard a fair maid sighing say, ’My wish be wi’ sweet Willie! ’Willie’s rare, and Willie’s fair, And Willie’s wondrous bonny; And Willie hecht to marry me Gin e’er he married ony. ’O gentle wind, that bloweth south, From where my Love repaireth, Convey a kiss frae his dear mouth And tell me how he fareth! ’O tell sweet 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 breast And gentle throat sae narrow: There’s sport eneuch for gentlemen On Leader-haughs and Yarrow. ’O Leader-haughs are wide and braid And Yarrow-haughs are bonny; There Willie hecht to marry me If 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. ’O came ye by yon water-side? Pou’d you the rose or lily? Or came you by yon meadow green, Or saw you my sweet Willie?’ She sought him up, she sought him down, She sought him braid and narrow; Syne, in the cleaving of a craig, She found him drown’d in Yarrow! Unknown. |
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