Legends & Sagas
249A: Auld Matrons
249A.1 MY love she is a gentlewoman,
Has her living by the seam;
I kenna how she is provided
This night for me and my foot-groom.
249A.2 He is gane to Annies bower-door,
And gently tirled at the pin:
Ye sleep, ye wake, my love Annie,
Yell rise and lat your true-love in.
249A.3 Wi her white fingers lang and sma
She gently lifted up the pin;
Wi her arms lang and bent
She kindly caught sweet Willie in.
249A.4 O will ye go to cards or dice?
Or will ye go to play?
Or will ye go to a well made bed,
And sleep a while till day?
249A.5 I winna gang to cards nor dice,
Nor yet will I to play;
But I will gang to a well made bed,
And sleep a while till day.
249A.6 My love Annie, my dear Annie,
I would be at your desire;
But wae mat fa the auld Matrons,
As she sits by the kitchen fire!
249A.7 Keep up your heart, Willie, she said,
Keep up your heart, dinna fear;
Its seven years, and some guid mair,
Sin her foot did file the flear.
249A.8 They hadna kissd nor love clapped,
As lovers when they meet,
Till up it raise the auld Matrons,
Sae wells she spread her feet.
249A.9 O wae mat fa the auld Matrons,
Sae clevers she took the gate!
And shes gaen ower yon lang, lang hill,
Knockd at the sheriffs yate.
249A.10 Ye sleep, ye wake, my lord? she said;
Are ye not your bower within?
Theres knight in bed wi your daughter,
I fear shes gotten wrang.
249A.11 Yell do ye down thro Kelso town,
Waken my wall-wight men;
And gin ye hae your wark well dune
Ill be there at command.
249A.12 Shes done her down thro Kelso town,
Wakend his wall-wight men;
But gin she had her wark well done
He was there at command.
249A.13 He had his horse wi corn fodderd,
His men armd in mail;
He gae the Matrons half a merk
To show them ower the hill.
249A.14 Willie sleepd, but Annie waked
Till she heard their bridles ring;
Then tapped on her loves shoulder,
And said, Yeve sleepit lang.
249A.15 O save me, save me, my blessd lady,
Till Ive on my shooting-gear;
I dinna fear the king himsell,
Tho he ans men were here.
249A.16 Then they shot in, and Willie out,
The arrows grazd his brow;
The maid she wept and tore her hair,
Says, This can never do.
249A.17 Then they shot in, and he shot out,
The bow brunt Willies hand;
But aye he kissd her ruby lips,
Said, My dear, thinkna lang.
249A.18 He set his horn to his mouth,
And has blawn loud and shrill,
And hes calld on his brother John,
In Ringlewood he lay still.
249A.19 The first an shot that Lord John shot,
He wound fifty and fifteen;
The next an shot that Lord John shot,
He cad out the sheriffs een.
249A.20 O some o you lend me an arm,
Some o you lend me twa;
And they that came for strife this day,
Take horse, ride fast awa.
249A.21 But wae mat fa yon, auld Matrons,
An ill death mat ye die!
Ill burn you on yon high hill-head,
Blaw your ashes in the sea.
Next: 250. Henry Martyn