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Home  »  Poems of Places An Anthology in 31 Volumes  »  Carlisle Yetts

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.

Carlisle

Carlisle Yetts

By Anonymous

WHITE was the rose in his gay bonnet,

As he faulded me in his broached plaidie,

His hand whilk clasped the truth luve,

O it was ay in battle ready!

His long, long hair in yellow hanks

Waved o’er his cheeks sae sweet and ruddie;

But now they wave o’er Carlisle yetts

In dripping ringlets clotting bloodie.

My father’s blood ’s in that flower-tap,

My brother’s in that hare-bell’s blossom,

This white rose was steeped in my luve’s blood,

An’ I ’ll ay wear it in my bosom.

*****

When I came first by merry Carlisle,

Was ne’er a town sae sweetly seeming;

The White Rose flaunted owre the wall,

The thristled banners far were streaming!

When I came next by merry Carlisle,

O sad, sad seemed the town an’ eerie!

The auld, auld men came out an’ wept,

“O maiden, come ye to seek yere dearie?”

*****

There ’s ae drop o’ blude atween my breasts,

An’ twa in my links o’ hair sae yellow;

The tane I ’ll ne’er wash, an’ the tither ne’er kame,

But I ’ll sit an’ pray aneath the willow.

Wae, wae upon that cruel heart,

Wae, wae upon that hand sae bloodie,

Which feasts in our richest Scottish blude,

An’ makes sae mony a doleful widow.