Digital Tradition Mirror

Walter Lesly

Walter Lesly

On the second of October, a Monday at noon,
In came Walter Lesly, to see his proper one;
He sent a chair down by her side, and gently sat her by,
Says, Will ye go to Conland, this winter-time to lye?

He's taen a glass into his hand, inviting her to drink,
But little knew she his meaning, or what the rogue did think;
Nor what the rogue did think, to steal the maid away;
`Will ye go to Conland, this winter-time to lye?'

When they had taen a glass or two, and all were making merry,
In came Geordy Lesly, and forth he did her carry;
Then upon high horseback sae hard's he did her tye,
`Will ye go to Conland, this winter-time to lye?'

Her mother she came to the door, the saut tears on her cheek,
She coudna see her daughter, it was for dust and reek;
It was for dust and reek, the swords they glancd sae high;
`And will ye go to Conland, this winter-time to lye?'

When they came to the ale-house, the people there were busy;
A bridal-bed it was well made, and supper well made ready;
When the supper down was set, baith plum-pudding and pie,
`And will ye go to Conland, this winter-time to lye?'

When they had eaten and well drunken, and a' man bound for bed,
The laddie and the lassie in ae chamber were laid;
He quickly stript her to the smock, and gently laid her bye,
Says, Will ye go to Conland, this winter-time to lye?

But Walter being weary, he fell fast asleep,
And then the lassie thought it fit to start up till her feet;
To start up till her feet, and her petticoats to tye,
`We'll go no more to Conland, the winter-time to lye.'

Then over moss and over muir sae cleverly she ran,
And over hill and over dale, without stockings or shoon;
The men pursued her full fast, wi mony shout and cry,
Says, Will ye go to Conland, the winter-time to lye.

`Wae to the dubs o Duffus land, that eer they were sae deep;
They've trachled a' our horsemen and gart our captain sleep;
And gart our captain sleep, and the lassie win away,
And she'll go no more to Conland, the winter-time to lye.'

`I'd rather be in Duffus land, selling at the ale,
Before I was wi Lesly, for a' his auld meal;
For a' his auld meal, and sae mony comes to buy;
I'll go no more to Conland the winter-time to lye.

`I'd rather be in Duffus land, draggin at the ware,
Before I was wi Lesly, for a' his yellow hair;
For a' his yellow hair, and sae well's he can it tye;
I'll go no more to Conland, this winter-time to lye.'

It was not for her beauty, nor yet her gentle bluid,
But for her mither's dollars, of them he had great need;
Of them he had great need, now he maun do them by,
For she'll go no more to Conland, this winter-time to lye.

Child #296
LMP
Oct00

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!