  IIt’s Lamkin was a mason good As ever built wi’ stane; He built Lord Wearie’s castle, But payment got he nane. II‘O pay me, Lord Wearie, Come, pay to me my fee.’— ‘I canna pay you, Lamkin, For I maun gang o’er the sea.’— III‘O pay me now, Lord Wearie, Come, pay me out o’ hand.’— ‘I canna pay you, Lamkin, Unless I sell my land.’— IV‘O gin ye winna pay me, I here sall mak’ a vow Before that ye come hame again, Ye sall hae cause to rue.’ VLord Wearie got a bonny ship, To sail the saut sea faem; Bade his lady weel the castle keep, Ay till he should come hame. VI‘Gae bar the doors,’ the lady said, ‘Gae well the windows pin; And what care I for Lamkin Or any of his gang?’ VIIBut the nourice was a fause limmer As e’er hung on a tree; She laid a plot wi’ Lamkin, Whan her lord was o’er the sea. VIIIShe laid a plot wi’ Lamkin, When the servants were awa’, Loot him in at a little shot-window And brought him to the ha’. IX‘O whare’s a’ the men o’ this house, That ca’ me the Lamkin?’— ‘They’re at the barn-well thrashing; ’Twill be lang ere they come in.’— X‘And whare’s the women o’ this house, That ca’ me the Lamkin?’— ‘They’re at the far well washing; ’Twill be lang ere they come in.’— XI‘And whare’s the bairns o’ this house, That ca’ me the Lamkin?’— ‘They’re at the school reading; ’Twill be night or they come hame.’— XII‘O whare’s the lady o’ this house, That ca’s me the Lamkin?’— ‘She’s up in her bower sewing, But we soon can bring her down.’ XIIIThen Lamkin’s tane a sharp knife, That hung down by his gare And he has gi’en the bonny babe A deep wound and a sair. XIVThen Lamkin he rockÈd, And the fause nourice sang, Till frae ilka bore The red blood out sprang. XVThen out it spak’ the lady, As she stood on the stair: ‘What ails my bairn, nourice, That he’s greeting XVI‘O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi’ the pap!’— ‘He winna still, lady, For this nor for that.’— XVII‘O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi’ the wand!’— ‘He winna still, lady, For a’ his father’s land.’— XVIII‘O still my bairn, nourice, O still him wi’ the bell!’— ‘He winna still, lady, Till ye come down yoursel’.’— XIXO the firsten step she steppit, She steppit on a stane; But the neisten step she steppit, She met him Lamkin. XX‘O mercy, mercy, Lamkin, Hae mercy upon me! Though you hae ta’en my young son’s life, Ye may let mysel’ be.’— XXI‘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.’— XXII‘O scour the bason, nourice, And mak’ it fair and clean, For to keep this lady’s heart’s blood, For she’s come o’ noble kin.’— XXIII‘There need nae bason, Lamkin, Lat it run through the floor; What better is the heart’s blood O’ the rich than o’ the poor?’ XXIVBut ere three months were at an end, Lord Wearie came again; But dowie When first he came hame. XX |
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