I am a poor young girl
That's straight from Callander.
I'm in search of Lord Gregory--
Pray God I find him!
The rain beats my yellow locks
And the dew wets me still,
My babe is cold in my arms--
Lord Gregory, let me in!"
"Lord Gregory's not here and
Henceforth can't be seen,
For he's gone to bonny Scotland
For to bring home his new queen.
So leave now these windows
And likewise this hall,
For it's deep in the sea
You should hide your downfall."
"Who'll shoe my babe's little feet?
Who'll put gloves on her hand?
Who will tie my babe's middle
With a long linen band?
Who'll comb my babe's yellow hair
With an ivory comb?
Who will be my babe's father
Till Lord Gregory comes home?
Do you remember, love Gregory,
That night in Callander
Where we changed pocket handkerchiefs,
And me against my will?
For yours was pure linen, love,
And mine but coarse cloth;
For yours cost a guinea, love,
And mine but one groat.
Do you remember, love Gregory,
That night in Callander
Where we changed rings on our fingers,
And me against my will?
For yours was pure silver, love,
And mine was but tin;
For yours cost a guinea, love,
And mine but one cent."
"And my curse on you, Mother,
My curse being sore!
Sure, I dreamed the girl I love
Came a-knocking at my door."
"Sleep down you foolish son,
Sleep down and sleep on:
For it's long ago that weary girl
Lies drownin' in the sea."
"Well go saddle me the black horse,
The brown, and the gray;
Go saddle me the best horse
In my stable to-day!
And I'll range over mountains,
Over valleys so wide,
Till I find the girl I love
And I'll lay by her side."