Wae's me for Prince Charlie (2)/The Fryar of Orders Gray

The Fryar of orders gray,

t was a Fryar of orders Gray
⁠walked forth to tell his heads;
And he met with a lady fair
⁠clad in a pilgrims weeds.

Now Heaven thee save thou ⟨reverend⟩ Fryar
⁠I pray thee tell to me
If ever at your holy shrine
⁠my true love thou didst see?

And how should I your true love know
⁠from many another one?
O by his cockle hat and staff;
⁠and by his sandal shoon.

O lady he is dead and gone
⁠lady hes dead and gone;
And at his head a green grass-turf
⁠and at his heels a stone

Weep no more lady weep no more
⁠thy sorrow is In vain;
For violets plucked the sweetest showers
⁠will ne er make grow again

Yet stay fair lady rest awhile
⁠beneath yon cloister wall;
See through the hawthorn blows the cold wind
⁠and drizzling rain doth fall.

O stay me not thou holy Fryar
⁠o stay me not I pray
No drizzling rain that falls on me,
⁠can wash my fault away.