Willie's Lady

Willie's Lady
Willie has taen him oer the fame,
He's woo'd a wife and brought her hame.
Child has 2 versions (A, B) of Willie's Lady, with a single tune (to Child A) which is also the only tune in Bronson. As far as is known the ballad has not survived in current oral tradition.

[ A | B ]

Version A.[ HOME ] [ Numbered List ]

a. A copy, by Miss Mary Fraser Tytler, of a transcript made by her grandfather from William Tytler's manuscript. b. Jamieson-Brown MS., No 15, p. 33. b. Ritson-Tytler-Brown MS., pp. 1–5. Sung by Mrs Brown, Falkland, (ex) Aberdeenshire; copied by Joseph Ritson, c. 1792–1794.

1 Willie has taen him oer the fame,
He's woo'd a wife and brought her hame.

2 He's woo'd her for her yellow hair,
But his mother wrought her mickle care.

3 And mickle dolour gard her dree,
For lighter she can never be.

4 But in her bower she sits wi pain,
And Willie mourns oer her in vain.

5 And to his mother he has gone,
That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

6 He says: 'My ladie has a cup,
Wi gowd and silver set about.

7 'This goodlie gift shall be your ain,
And let her be lighter o her young bairn.'

8 'Of her young bairn she'll neer be lighter,
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter.

9 'But she shall die and turn to clay,
And you shall wed another may.'

10 'Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll neer bring home.'

11 But sighing says that weary wight,
'I wish my life were at an end.'

12 'Ye doe [ye] unto your mother again,
That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

Version B.[ TOP ]

1 Willie has taen him oer the fame,
He's woo'd a wife and brought her hame.

2 He's woo'd her for her yellow hair,
But his mother wrought her mickle care.

3 And mickle dolour gard her dree,
For lighter she can never be.

4 But in her bower she sits wi pain,
And Willie mourns oer her in vain.

5 And to his mother he has gone,
That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

6 He says: 'My ladie has a cup,
Wi gowd and silver set about.

7 'This goodlie gift shall be your ain,
And let her be lighter o her young bairn.'

8 'Of her young bairn she'll neer be lighter,
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter.

9 'But she shall die and turn to clay,
And you shall wed another may.'

10 'Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll neer bring home.'

11 But sighing says that weary wight,
'I wish my life were at an end.'

12 'Ye doe [ye] unto your mother again,
That vile rank witch of vilest kind.

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