English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Traditional Ballads
28. The Dowy Houms o Yarrow
Or early in a mornin,
The set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawnin.
O stay at hame, my marrow!
My cruel brother will you betray,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.”
O fare ye weel, my Sarah!
For I maun gae, tho I neer return
Frae the dowy banks o Yarrow.”
As she had done before, O;
She belted on his noble brand,
An he’s awa to Yarrow.
I wat he gaed wi sorrow—
And in a den spied nine armd men,
I the dowy houms o Yarrow.
As ye hae doon before, O?
Or ir ye come to wield the brand,
On the bonny banks o Yarrow?”
As I hae don before, O,
But I im come to wield the brand,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.”
On the dowy houms o Yarrow,
An ran his body thorrow.
And tell your sister Sarah
To come and lift her noble lord,
Who’s sleepin sound on Yarrow.”
I kend there wad be sorrow;
I dreamd I pu’d the heather green,
On the dowy banks o Yarrow.”
I wat she gaed wi sorrow—
An in a den spy’d nine dead men,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.
As oft she did before, O;
She drank the red blood frae him ran,
On the dowy houms o Yarrow.
For what needs a’ this sorrow?
I’ll wed you on a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.”
An dinna grieve your Sarah;
A better lord was never born
Than him I lost on Yarrow.
For they hae bred our sorrow;
I wiss that they had a’ gane mad
Whan they cam first to Yarrow.”