Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland The fairest was Marjorie; And Young Benjie was her ae true love, And a dear true love was he. And wow! but they were lovers dear And loved fu' constantlie; But aye the mair when they fell out The sairer was their plea. And they hae quarrelled on a day Till Marjorie's heart grew wae, And she said she'd chuse another luve And let Young Benjie gae. And he was stout and proud-hearted, And thought o't bitterlie, And he's ga'en by the wan moon-light To meet his Marjorie. O open, open, my true love, O open and let me in: I dare na open, Young Benjie, My three brothers are within. Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd, Sae loud's I hear ye lie; As I came by the Lowden banks They bade gude e'en to me. But fare ye weel, my ae fause love, That I hae loved sae lang; It sets ye chuse another love And let Young Benjie gang. Then Marjorie turned her round about, The tear blinding her e'e: I darena, darena let thee in But I'll come down to thee. Then saft she smiled, and said to him, O what ill hae I done? He took her in his armis twa And threw her o'er the linn. The stream was strang, the maid was stout, And laith, laith to be dang, But ere she wan the Lowden banks Her fair colour was wan. Then up bespak her eldest brother, O see na ye what I see? And out then spak her second brother, It's our sister Marjorie. Out then spak her eldest brother, O how shall we her ken? And out then spak her youngest brother, There's a honey mark on her chin. Then they've taen up the comely corpse And laid it on the ground: O wha has killed our ae sister, And how can he be found? The night it is her low lykewake, The morn her burial day, And we maun watch at mirk midnight And hear what she will say. Wi' doors ajar, and candle light, And torches burning clear, The streikit corpse, till still midnight, They waked, but naething hear. About the middle o' the night The cocks began to craw, And at the dead hour o' the night The corpse began to thraw. O wha has done thee wrang, sister, Or dared the deadly sin? Wha was sae stout, and feared nae dout, As thraw ye o'er the linn? Young Benjie was the first ae man I laid my love upon; He was sae stout and proud-hearted, He threw me o'er the linn. Sall we Young Benjie head, sister? Sall we Young Benjie hang? Or sall we pike out his twa gray e'en And punish him ere he gang? Ye mauna Benjie head, brothers, Ye mauna Benjie hang; But ye maun pike out his twa grey e'en And punish him ere he gang. Tie a green gravat round his neck And lead him out and in, And the best ae servant about your house To wait Young Benjie on. And ay at every seven years' end Ye'll tak him to the linn, For that's the penance he maun drie To scug his deadly sin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 50 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THALIA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A DAY OF DAYS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM ETHELWALD, FR. METRICAL HISTORY OF ST. CUTHBERT by BEDE GOING BACK TO SCHOOL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET FIAMMETTA: SONNET. TO DANTE IN PARADISE by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 27 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 4 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |