Doun in yon garden sweet and gay,
Where bonnie grows the lilie,
I heard a fair maid, sighing, say,
‘My wish be wi’ sweet Willie!
O Willie’s rare, and Willie’s fair,
And Willie’s wondrous bonnie;
And Willie hecht to marry me,
Gin e’er he married ony.
But Willie’s gone, whom I thought
And does not hear me weeping;
Draws many a tear frae true love’s e’e,
When other maids are sleeping.
Yestreen I made my bed fu’ braid,
The nicht I’ll mak’ it narrow;
For, a’ the live-lang winter nicht,
I lie twined o’ my marrow.
Oh gentle wind, that bloweth south,
From where my love repaireth,
Convey a kiss frae his deir mouth,
And tell me how he fareth!
O Tell sweit Willie to come doun,
And bid him no be cruel;
And tell him no to break the heart
Of his love and only jewel.
O tell sweit Willie to come doun,
And hear the mavis singing;
And see the birds on ilka bush,
And leaves around them hinging.
The lav’rock there, wi’ her white
And gentle throat sae narrow;
There’s sport eneuch for gentlemen,
O Leader haughs and Yarrow.
O Leader haughs are wide and braid,
And Yarrow haughs are bonnie;
There Willie hecht to marry me,
If e’er he married ony.
O cam’ ye by yon water side?
Pu’d you the rose or lilie?
Or cam’ ye by yon meadow green?
Or saw ye my sweit Willie?’
She sought him up, she sought him
She sought the braid and narrow;
Syne, in the cleaving o’ a craig,
She found him drowned in Yarrow.