A Collection of Ballads by Andrew Lang
page 38 of 301 (12%)
page 38 of 301 (12%)
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"What about did the plea begin?
Son Davie! Son Davie!" "It began about the cutting o' a willow wand, That would never hae been a tree, O." "What death dost thou desire to die? Son Davie! Son Davie! What death dost thou desire to die? And the truth come tell to me, O." "I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, Mother lady! mother lady! I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, And ye'll never see mair o' me, O." "What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife? Son Davie! Son Davie!" "Grief and sorrow all her life, And she'll never get mair frae me, O." "What wilt thou leave to thy young son? Son Davie! son Davie!" "The weary warld to wander up and down, And he'll never get mair o' me, O." "What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear? Son Davie! Son Davie!" "A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer, And she'll never get mair o' me, O." |
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