Auld Matrons My love she is a gentlewoman Has her living by the seam I ken nae how she is provided This nicht for me and my foot-groom Willie's gane tae Annie's bower door And tirled gently at the pin Sleep ye or wake ye, my dear Annie? Open the door and let me in Wi' her white fingers lang and sma' She's lifted gently at the pin Flang her arms a' aboot him Kindly welcomed Willie in O, will ye gang tae cairds or dice Willie will ye gang tae play Or will ye gang tae a weel-made bed And lie and sleep awhile till day? My love Annie, my dear Annie I would be at your desire If it wasna for yon auld matrons Sitting by the kitchen fire Willie dear, keep up your hairt Keep up your hairt and dinna fear For seven year and mair hae passed Since last her feet did file the fleer They hadna kissed nor gi'en love's handsel The way of lovers when they meet When up arose yon auld matrons And sae weel she spread her feet O woe befa' yon auld matrons Sae clever as she took the gate And she's gane up yon high, high hill And chappit at the sheriff's yett Sleep ye or wake ye, my good lord And are ye no your bower within? There's a knicht in bed wi' your dochter And I fear she's gotten wrang Ye'll gae doon through Kelso toon And wauken a' my merry men And when ye hae this wark weel done Then I will come and tak' command She's done her doon through Kelso toon And waukened a' his merry men And when she has this wark well doon Then he has come and ta'en command He has his horse wi' corn foddered A' his men were armed in mail He's gi'en auld matrons half a mark Tae lead his men oot o'er the hill Willie slept but Annie waukened When she heard their blades ring She shook her Willie by the shouther Rise, my love, ye sleep o'er lang O gi'es nae sign my ain dear lassie Till I've pit on my shooting gear Then I wadna fear the King himsel' Though he and a' his men were here They shot their arrows through the window Ane o' them grazed Willie's broo The maid she wept and tore her hair, Says, this can never do. Then they shot in, and he shot out, The bow brunt Willie's hand; But aye he kissed her ruby lips, Said, My dear, thinkna lang. He set his horn to his mouth, And has blawn loud and shrill, And He's call'd on his brother John, In Ringlewood be lay still. The first an shot that Lord John shot, He wound fifty and fifteen ; The next an shot that Lord John shot, He ca'd out the sheriff's een. O some o you lend me an arm, Some o you lend me twa; And they that came for strife this day, Take horse, ride fast awa. But wa mat fa yon, auld matrons An ill death mat ye dee I'll burn ye on yon high hill-head Blaw yer ashes on the sea. Child #249 SOF
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