Francis James Child - The Braes O' Yarrow lyrics

Late at een, drinking the wine, Or early in a mornin, The set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawnin. "O stay at hame, my noble lord! O stay at hame, my marrow! My cruel brother will you betray, On the dowy houms o Yarrow." "O fare ye weel, my lady gaye! O fare ye weel, my Sarah! For I maun gae, tho I neer return Frae the dowy banks o Yarrow." She kissd his cheek, she kaimed his hair, As she had done before, O; She belted on his noble brand, An he's awa to Yarrow. O he's gane up yon high, high hill - I wat he gaed wi sorrow - An in a den spied nine armd men, I the dowy houms o Yarrow. "O if ye come to drink the wine, As ye hae doon before, O? Or if ye come to wield the brand, On the bonny banks o Yarrow?" I im no come to drink the wine, As I hae doon before, O, But I im come to wield the brand, On the dowy houms o Yarrow." Four he hurt, an five he slew, On the dowy houms o Yarrow, Till that stubborn knight came him behind, An ran his body thorrow. "Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John, An tell your sister Sarah To come an lift her noble lord, Who's sleepin sound on Yarrow." "Yestreen I dreamd a dolefu dream; I kend there wad be sorrow; I dremd I pu'd the heather green, On the dowy banks o Yarrow." She gaed up yon high, high hill - I wat she gaed wi sorrow - An in a den spy'd nine dead men, On the dowy houms o Yarrow. She kissd his cheek, she kaimd his hair, As oft she did before, O; She drank the red blood frae him ran, On the dowy houms o Yarrow. "O haud your tongue, my douchter dear For what needs a' this sorrow?, I'll wed you on a better lord Than him you lost on Yarrow." "O haud your tongue, my father dear, An dinna grieve your Sarah; A better lord was never born Than him I lost on Yarrow. "Tak hame your ousen, take hame your kye, For they hae bred our sorrow; I wiss that they had a' gane mad Whan they cam first to Yarrow."