‘I might hae marrit a king’s daughter, butI mindit my love for thee.’
‘I might hae marrit a king’s daughter, butI mindit my love for thee.’
‘I might hae marrit a king’s daughter, butI mindit my love for thee.’
‘I might hae marrit a king’s daughter, but
I mindit my love for thee.’
“The description of her setting her child on the nurse’s knee and bidding him farewell is waesome, but I have forgot it.”
She set her foot into the ship, to hear the music play;The masts war o the beaten goud, and the sails o the silk sae gay.They hadna saild a league thrae land, a league but barely three,Till drearie grew his countenance, and drumlie grew his ee.They hadna saild another league, another league but three,Till she beheld his cloven fit, and she wept most bitterlie.‘O had yer tongue, my love,’ he said, ‘why weep ye sae mournfulie?We’re gaun to see how the lillies do grow on the banks o fair Italie.’‘What hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, where the sun shines [a wafer here]‘O yon’s the hills of heaven,’ he said, ‘where you will never win!‘”
She set her foot into the ship, to hear the music play;The masts war o the beaten goud, and the sails o the silk sae gay.They hadna saild a league thrae land, a league but barely three,Till drearie grew his countenance, and drumlie grew his ee.They hadna saild another league, another league but three,Till she beheld his cloven fit, and she wept most bitterlie.‘O had yer tongue, my love,’ he said, ‘why weep ye sae mournfulie?We’re gaun to see how the lillies do grow on the banks o fair Italie.’‘What hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, where the sun shines [a wafer here]‘O yon’s the hills of heaven,’ he said, ‘where you will never win!‘”
She set her foot into the ship, to hear the music play;The masts war o the beaten goud, and the sails o the silk sae gay.
She set her foot into the ship, to hear the music play;
The masts war o the beaten goud, and the sails o the silk sae gay.
They hadna saild a league thrae land, a league but barely three,Till drearie grew his countenance, and drumlie grew his ee.
They hadna saild a league thrae land, a league but barely three,
Till drearie grew his countenance, and drumlie grew his ee.
They hadna saild another league, another league but three,Till she beheld his cloven fit, and she wept most bitterlie.
They hadna saild another league, another league but three,
Till she beheld his cloven fit, and she wept most bitterlie.
‘O had yer tongue, my love,’ he said, ‘why weep ye sae mournfulie?We’re gaun to see how the lillies do grow on the banks o fair Italie.’
‘O had yer tongue, my love,’ he said, ‘why weep ye sae mournfulie?
We’re gaun to see how the lillies do grow on the banks o fair Italie.’
‘What hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, where the sun shines [a wafer here]‘O yon’s the hills of heaven,’ he said, ‘where you will never win!‘”
‘What hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, where the sun shines [a wafer here]
‘O yon’s the hills of heaven,’ he said, ‘where you will never win!‘”
Letters addressed to Sir Walter Scott, Vol. I, No 78, Abbotsford.