Willie's Lyke-Wake Willie's Lyke-Wake Willie, Willie, Ill learn you a wile, And the sun shines over the valleys and a How this pretty fair maid ye may beguile. Amang the blue flowrs and the yellow and a Child has 5 (A to E) versions of Willie's Lyke-Wake. Bronson has 4 tunes all Scottish, 3 from the 1800s and one from the Greig-Duncan collection from tradition in the Buchan area of Aberdeenshire. [ A | B | C | D | E ] A. Willie, Willie, Kinlochs MSS, i, 53. B. a. Blue Flowers and Yellow, Buchans Ballads of the North of Scotland, i, 185. b. The Blue Flowers and the Yellow, Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, i, 120. C. Motherwells MS., p. 187. D. Amang the blue flowers and yellow, Motherwells Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xix, No xvii, one stanza. E. Willies Lyke-Wake. a. Buchans Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 51. b. Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 122. Version A[ HOME ] [ Numbered List ] Kinlochs MSS, i, 53, from the recitation of Mary Barr, Lesmahagow, aged upwards of seventy. May, 1827. 1 Willie, Willie, Ill learn you a wile, And the sun shines over the valleys and a How this pretty fair maid ye may beguile. Amang the blue flowrs and the yellow and a 2 Ye maun lie doun just as ye were dead, And tak your winding-sheet around your head. 3 Ye maun gie the bellman his bell-groat, To ring your dead-bell at your lovers yett. 4 He lay doun just as he war dead, And took his winding-sheet round his head. 5 He gied the bellman his bell-groat, To ring his dead-bell at his lovers yett. 6 O wha is this that is dead, I hear? O wha but Willie that loed ye sae dear. 7 She is to her fathers chamber gone, And on her knees shes fallen down. 8 O father, O father, ye maun grant me this; I hope that ye will na tak it amiss. 9 That I to Willies burial should go; For he is dead, full well I do know. 10 Yell tak your seven bauld brethren wi thee, And to Willies burial straucht go ye. 11 Its whan she cam to the outmost yett, She made the silver fly round for his sake. 12 Its whan she cam to the inmost yett, She made the red gowd fly round for his sake. 13 As she walked frae the court to the parlour there, The pretty corpse syne began for to steer. 14 He took her by the waist sae neat and sae sma, And throw her atween him and the wa. 15 O Willie, O Willie, let me alane this nicht, O let me alane till were wedded richt. 16 Ye cam unto me baith sae meek and mild, But Ill mak ye gae hame a wedded wife wi child. Version B[ TOP ] a. Buchans Ballads of the North of Scotland, i, 185. b. Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, i, 120. b. W. Christie. Sung by an old woman in Banffshire. 1 O Willie my son, what makes you sae sad? As the sun shines over the valley I lye sarely sick for the love of a maid. Amang the blue flowers and the yellow 2 Were she an heiress or lady sae free, That she will take no pity on thee? 3 O Willie, my son, Ill learn you a wile, How this fair maid ye may beguile. 4 Yell gie the principal bellman a groat, And yell gar him cry your dead lyke-wake. 5 Then he gae the principal bellman a groat, He bade him cry his dead lyke-wake. 6 This maiden she stood till she heard it a, And down frae her cheeks the tears did fa. 7 She is hame to her fathers ain bower: Ill gang to yon lyke-wake ae single hour. 8 Ye must take with you your ain brither John; Its not meet for maidens to venture alone. 9 Ill not take with me my brither John, But Ill gang along, myself all alone. 10 When she came to young Willies yate, His seven brithers were standing thereat. 11 Then they did conduct her into the ha, Amang the weepers and merry mourners a. 12 When she lifted up the covering sae red, With melancholy countenance to look on the dead, 13 Hes taen her in his arms, laid her gainst the wa, Says, Lye ye here, fair maid, till day. 14 O spare me, O spare me, but this single night, And let me gang hame a maiden sae bright. 15 Tho all your kin were about your bower, Ye shall not be a maiden ae single hour. 16 Fair maid, ye came here without a convoy, But ye shall return wi a horse and a boy. 17 Ye came here a maiden sae mild, But ye shall gae hame a wedded wife with child. Version C[ TOP ] Motherwells MS., p. 187. 1 O Willie, Willie, what makes thee so sad? And the sun shines over the valley I have loved a lady these seven years and mair. Down amang the blue flowers and the yellow 2 O Willie, lie down as thou were dead, 3 And gie to the bellman a belling-great, To ring the dead-bell at thy loves bower-yett. 4 He laid him down as he were dead, And he drew the winding-sheet oer his head. 5 He gied to the bellman a belling-great, To ring the dead-bell at his loves bower-yett. * * * * * 6 When that she came to her true lovers gate, She dealt the red gold and all for his sake. 7 And when that she came to her true lovers bower, She had not been there for the space of half an hour, 8 Till that she cam to her true lovers bed, And she lifted the winding-sheet to look at the dead. 9 He took her by the hand so meek and sma, And he cast her over between him and the wa. 10 Tho all your friends were in the bower, I would not let you go for the space of half an hour. 11 You came to me without either horse or boy, But I will send you home with a merry convoy. Version D[ TOP ] Motherwells Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xix, No xvii. O Johnie, dear Johnie, what makes ye sae sad? As the sun shines ower the valley I think nae music will mak ye glad. Amang the blue flowers and the yellow Version E[ TOP ] a. Buchans Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 51. b. Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 122. 1 If my love loves me, she lets me not know, That is a dowie chance; I wish that I the same could do, Tho my love were in France, France, Tho my love were in France. 2 O lang think I, and very lang, And lang think I, I true; But lang and langer will I think Or my love o me rue. 3 I will write a broad letter, And write it sae perfite, That an she winna o me rue, Ill bid her come to my lyke. 4 Then he has written a broad letter, And seald it wi his hand, And sent it on to his true love, As fast as boy could gang. 5 When she looked the letter upon, A light laugh then gae she; But ere she read it to an end, The tear blinded her ee. 6 O saddle to me a steed, father, O saddle to me a steed; For word is come to me this night, That my true love is dead. 7 The steeds are in the stable, daughter, The keys are casten by; Ye cannot won to-night, daughter, To-morrow yese won away. 8 She has cut aff her yellow locks, A little aboon her ee, And she is on to Willies lyke, As fast as gang could she. 9 As she gaed ower yon high hill head, She saw a dowie light; It was the candles at Willies lyke, And torches burning bright. 10 Three o Willies eldest brothers Were making for him a bier; One half o it was gude red gowd, The other siller clear. 11 Three o Willies eldest sisters Were making for him a sark; The one half o it was cambric fine, The other needle wark. 12 Out spake the youngest o his sisters, As she stood on the fleer: How happy would our brother been, If yed been sooner here! [ HOME ][ TOP ] [ |