Classic Poem

The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke
Both the winter through and the spring;
And she that will gang to get broom thereby
She shall get an ill thing.

The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke
Both the winter and the summer day;
And he that will steek his sheep thereby
He shall go sadly away.

Between Crossmuir and Duriesdyke
The fieldhead is full green;
The shaws are thick in the fair summer,
And three wellheads between.

Flower of broom is a fair flower,
And heather is good to play.
O she went merry to Duriesdyke,
But she came heavy away.

It's I have served you, Burd Maisry,
These three months through and mair;
And the little ae kiss I gat of you,
It pains me aye and sair.

This is the time of heather-blowing,
And that was syne in the spring;
And the little ae leaf comes aye to red,
And the corn to harvesting.

The first kiss their twa mouths had,
Sae fain she was to greet;
The neist kiss their twa mouths had,
I wot she laughed fu' sweet.

Cover my head with a silken hood,
My feet with a yellow claith;
For to stain my body wi' the dyke-water
God wot I were fu' laith.

He's happit her head about wi' silk,
Her feet with a gowden claith;
The red sendal that was of price
He's laid between them baith.

The grass was low by Duriesdyke,
The high heather was red;
And between the grass and the high heather
He's tane her maidenhead.

They did not kiss in a noble house,
Nor yet in a lordly bed;
But their mouths kissed in the high heather
Between the green side and the red.

I have three sailing ships, Maisry,
For red wheat and for wine;
The maintopmast is a bonny mast,
Three furlongs off to shine.

The foremast shines like new lammer,
The mizen-mast like steel:
Gin ye wad sail wi' me, Maisry,
The warst should carry ye weel.

Gin I should sail wi' you, Lord John,
Out under the rocks red,
It's wha wad be my mither's bower-maiden
To hap saft her feet in bed?

Gin I should sail wi' you, Lord John,
Out under the rocks white,
There's nane wad do her a very little ease
To hap her left and right.

It fell upon the midwinter
She gat mickle scaith and blame;
She's bound hersell by the white water
To see his ships come hame.

She's leaned hersell against the wind,
To see upon the middle tide;
The faem was fallen in the running wind,
The wind was fallen in the waves wide.

There's nae moon by the white water
To do me ony good the day;
And but this wind a little slacken,
They shall have a sair seaway.

O stir not for this med, baby,
O stir not at my side;
Ye'll have the better birth, baby,
Gin ye wad but a little abide.

Gin ye winna cease for the pity of him
O cease for the pity of me;
There was never bairn born of a woman
Between the sea-wind and the sea:
There was never bairn born of a woman
That was born so bitterly.

The ship drove hard upon the wind,
I wot it drove full mightily;
But the fair gold sides upon the ship
They were bursten with the sea.

O I am sae fain for you, Lord John,
Gin ye be no sae fain
How shall I bear wi' my body,
It is sae full of pain?

O I am sae fain of your body,
Ye are no sae fain of me;
But the sails are riven wi' the wind
And the sides are full of sea.

O when she saw the sails riven
The sair pain bowed her back;
But when she saw the sides bursten
I wot her very heart brak.

The wind waxed in the sea between,
The rain waxed in the land;
Lord John was happit wi' saut sea-faem,
Lady Maisry wi' sea-sand:
And the little bairn between them twa
That was to her right hand.

The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke
To the land side and the sea;
There was never bairn born of a woman
That was born mair bitterly.