The Poetical Works of William Motherwell/The Fause Ladye
The Fause Ladye.
'The water weets my toe,' she said,
'The water weets my knee;
Hand up, Sir Knicht, my horse's head,
If you a true luve be!'
'I luved ye weel, and luved ye lang,
Yet grace I failed to win;
Nae trust put I in ladye's troth
Till water weets her chin!'
'Then water weets my waist, proud lord,
The water weets my chin;
My achin' head spins round about,
The burn maks sik a din—
Now, help thou me, thou fearsome Knicht,
If grace ye hope to win!'
'I mercy hope to win, high dame,
Yet hand I've nane to gie—
The trinklin' o' a gallant's blude
Sae sair hath blindit me!'
'Oh! help!—Oh! help!—If man ye be
Have on a woman ruth—
The waters gather round my head
And gurgle in my mouth!'
'Turn round and round, fell Margaret,
Turn round and look on me—
The pity that ye schawed yestreen
I'll fairly schaw to thee!
'Thy girdle-knife was keen and bricht—
The ribbons wondrous fine—
'Tween every knot o' them ye knit
Of kisses I had nine!
'Fond Margaret! Fause Margaret!
You kissed me cheek and chin—
Yet, when I slept, that girdle-knife
You sheathed my heart's blude in!
'Fause Margaret! Lewde Margaret!
The nicht ye bide wi' me—
The body, under trust, you slew,
My spirit weds wi' thee!'