Posthumous Poems/Duriesdyke
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
DURIESDYKE
The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke,
Both the winter through and the spring;
And she that will gang to get broom thereby
She shall get an ill thing.
Both the winter through and the spring;
And she that will gang to get broom thereby
She shall get an ill thing.
The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke,
Both the winter and the summer day;
And he that will steek his sheep thereby
He shall go sadly away.
Both the winter and the summer day;
And he that will steek his sheep thereby
He shall go sadly away.
"Between Crossmuir and Duriesdyke
The fieldhead is full green;
The shaws are thick in the fair summer,
And three well-heads between.
The fieldhead is full green;
The shaws are thick in the fair summer,
And three well-heads between.
"Flower of broom is a fair flower,
And heather is good to play."
O she went merry to Duriesdyke,
But she came heavy away.
And heather is good to play."
O she went merry to Duriesdyke,
But she came heavy away.
"It's I have served you, Burd Maisry,
These three months through and mair;
And the little ae kiss I gat of you,
It pains me aye and sair.
These three months through and mair;
And the little ae kiss I gat of you,
It pains me aye and sair.
"This is the time of heather-blowing,
And that was syne in the spring;
And the little ae leaf comes aye to red,
And the corn to harvesting."
And that was syne in the spring;
And the little ae leaf comes aye to red,
And the corn to harvesting."
The first kiss their twa mouths had,
Sae fain she was to greet;
The neist kiss their twa mouths had,
I wot she laughed fu' sweet.
Sae fain she was to greet;
The neist kiss their twa mouths had,
I wot she laughed fu' sweet.
"Cover my head with a silken hood,
My feet with a yellow claith;
For to stain my body wi' the dyke-water,
God wot I were fu' laith."
My feet with a yellow claith;
For to stain my body wi' the dyke-water,
God wot I were fu' laith."
He's happit her head about wi' silk,
Her feet with a gowden claith;
The red sendal that was of price,
He's laid between them baith.
Her feet with a gowden claith;
The red sendal that was of price,
He's laid between them baith.
The grass was low by Duriesdyke,
The high heather was red;
And between the grass and the high heather,
He's tane her maidenhead.
The high heather was red;
And between the grass and the high heather,
He's tane her maidenhead.
They did not kiss in a noble house,
Nor yet in a lordly bed;
But their mouths kissed in the high heather,
Between the green side and the red.
Nor yet in a lordly bed;
But their mouths kissed in the high heather,
Between the green side and the red.
"I have three sailing ships, Maisry,
For red wheat and for wine;
The maintopmast is a bonny mast,
Three furlongs off to shine.
For red wheat and for wine;
The maintopmast is a bonny mast,
Three furlongs off to shine.
"The foremast shines like new lammer,
The mizzenmast like steel:
Gin ye wad sail wi' me, Maisry,
The warst should carry ye weel."
The mizzenmast like steel:
Gin ye wad sail wi' me, Maisry,
The warst should carry ye weel."
"Gin I should sail wi' you, Lord John,
Out under the rocks red,
It's wha wad be my mither's bower-maiden
To hap saft her feet in bed?
Out under the rocks red,
It's wha wad be my mither's bower-maiden
To hap saft her feet in bed?
"Gin I should sail wi' you, Lord John,
Out under the rocks white,
There's nane wad do her a very little ease
To hap her left and right."
Out under the rocks white,
There's nane wad do her a very little ease
To hap her left and right."
It fell upon the midwinter,
She gat mickle scaith and blame;
She's bowed hersell by the white water
To see his ships come hame.
She gat mickle scaith and blame;
She's bowed hersell by the white water
To see his ships come hame.
She's leaned hersell against the wind,
To see upon the middle tide;
The faem was fallen in the running wind,
The wind was fallen in the waves wide.
To see upon the middle tide;
The faem was fallen in the running wind,
The wind was fallen in the waves wide.
“There’s nae moon by the white water
To do me ony good the day;
And but this wind a little slacken,
They shall have a sair seaway.
To do me ony good the day;
And but this wind a little slacken,
They shall have a sair seaway.
“O stir not for this nied, baby,
O stir not at my side;
Ye'll have the better birth, baby,
Gin ye wad but a little abide.”
O stir not at my side;
Ye'll have the better birth, baby,
Gin ye wad but a little abide.”