Willie Drowned in Yarrow

Down in yon garden sweet and gay
Where bonnie grows the lily,
I heard a fair maid sighing say,
’My wish be wi’ sweet Willie!

’Willie’s rare, and Willie’s fair,
And Willie’s wondrous bonny;
And Willie hecht to marry me
Gin e’er he married ony.

’O gentle wind, that bloweth south,
From where my Love repaireth,
Convey a kiss frae his dear mouth
And tell me how he fareth!

’O tell sweet 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 breast
And gentle throat sae narrow:
There’s sport eneuch for gentlemen
On Leader-haughs and Yarrow.

’O Leader-haughs are wide and braid
And Yarrow-haughs are bonny;
There Willie hecht to marry me
If e’er he married ony.

’But Willie’s gone, whom I thought on,
And does not hear me weeping;
Draws many a tear frae true love’s e’e
When other maids are sleeping.

’O came ye by yon water-side?
Pou’d you the rose or lily?
Or came you by yon meadow green,
Or saw you my sweet Willie?’

She sought him up, she sought him down,
She sought him braid and narrow;
Syne, in the cleaving of a craig,
She found him drown’d in Yarrow!

Unknown.