Two Brothers

There were twa brethren in the north,
They went to school thegithar;
The one unto the other said,
Will you try a warsle afore?

They wrestled up, they wrestled down,
Till Sir John fell to the ground,
And there was a knife in Sir Willie's pouch,
Gied him a deadly wound.

"Oh brither dear, take me on your back,
Carry me to yon burn clear,
And wash the blood from off my wound,
And it will bleed nae mair."

He took him upon his back,
Carried him to yon burn clear,
And washed the blood from off his wound,
And aye it bled the mair.

"Oh brother dear, take me on your back,
Carry me to yon kirk-yard,
And dig a grave baith wide and deep,
And lay my body there."

He's ta'en him upon his back,
Carried him to yon kirk-yard,
And dug a grave both deep and wide,
And laid his body there.

"But what will I say to my father dear,
Should chance to say, Willie, whar's John?"
"Oh say that he's to England gone,
To buy him a cask of wine."

"And what shall I say to my mother dear,
Should she chance to say, Willie, whar's John?"
"Oh say that he's to England gone,
To buy her a new silk gown."

"And what will I say to my sister dear,
Should she chance to say, Willie, whar's John?"
"Oh say that he's to England gone,
To buy her a wedding ring."

"What will I say to her you loe dear,
Should she cry, Why tarries my John?"
"O tell her I lie in fair Kirk-land,
And home I will never come."

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin