The Earl of Roslin's Daughter

A lady fair, one May mornin', went out to take a walk,
A noble lord he followed her, and never stopped to talk,
But hoist her ower his saddle bow and he's stowen her awa
An' he's taen her to his castle to lay her neist the wa'.

Out she spoke, this lady fair, and she spoke loud and free,
Said "I'll not lie in your bed till you dress me dishes three,
Dishes three you must dress me, and that in ane or twa,
Afore I'll lie in your bed either at stock or wa'.

"I must have to my dinner a cherry without a stone
And I must have to my dinner a chicken without a bone
And I must have to my dinner a bird without a ga'
Before I lie in your bed either at stock or wa'."

"When the cherry's in the bloom I'm sure it hath no stone
And when the chicken's in the shell, I'm sure it hath no bone,
The dove, she is a gentle bird, she flies without a ga',
So we'll baith be in ae bed, and ye'll lie next the wa'."

Out spoke again this lady fair, and she seemed in a fix
Said "I'll not lie in your bed till you answer questions six,
Questions six you'll answer me, and that in four or twa,
Afore I lie in your bed, either at stock or wa'.

"What is greener than the grass, what's higher than the trees,
Or what is worse than women's voice, what's deeper than the seas?
A sparrow's horn, a priest unborn, this nicht to join us twa,
Afore I lie at your bed, either at stock or wa'."

"Death is greener than the grass, sky is higher than the trees,
The devil's worse than women's voice, Hell's deeper than the seas,
A sparrow's horn ye may weel get, it has one in every claw,
And two upon the gab of it, and you shall have them a'."

"The priest he' standin' at the gate, just ready to come in,
Nae man can say that he was born, nae man without a sin,
For a hole cut frae his mother's side, he frae the same did fa',
So we'll baith lie in ae bed, an ye'll lie next the wa'."

O little did that lady think, that morning when she rose,
That it was for to be the last, of all her maiden days
For she went out to take her walk, frae it she was stowen awa',
And no she lies in his bed, and she lies next the wa'.

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin