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She sat down below a thorn |
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Fine flowers in the valley |
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And there she has her sweet babe born |
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And the green leaves they grow rarely |
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"Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe |
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An ye'll smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me deid" |
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She's ta'en oot her wee pen knife |
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And twinned the sweet babe o' it's life |
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She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon |
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An' there she's buried her sweet babe in |
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As she was going to the church |
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She saw a sweet babe in the porch |
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"O sweet babe, an' thou were mine |
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I wad cleed thee in the silk sae fine" |
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O mither dear, when I was thine |
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Ye didna prove tae me sae kind |
