She sat down below a thorn,
Fine flowers in the valley;
And there she has her sweet babe born,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.
Smile na sae sweet, my bonie babe:
And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead.
She's taen out her little penknife
And twinned the sweet babe o' its life.
She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon
And there she's buried her sweet babe in.
As she was going to the church
She saw a sweet babe in the porch.
O sweet babe and thou were mine
I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine.
O mother dear, when I was thine,
You didna prove to me sae kind.
O cursed mother, heaven's high,
And that's where thou will neer win nigh.
O cursed mother, hell is deep,
Fine flowers in the valley;
And there thou'll enter step by step,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.
Back to Main Page