Classic Poem

I was but seven year auld
when my mither she did die;
My father married the ae warst woman
The warld did ever see.

For she has made me the laily worm
That lies at the fit o' the tree,
An' my sister Masery she's made
The machrel of the sea.

An' every Saturday at noon
The machrel comes to me,
An' she takes my laily head
An' lays it on her knee;
She kaims it wi' a siller kaim
An' washes 't in the sea.

Seven knights hae I slain
Sin' I lay at the fit of the tree;
An' ye war na my ain father
The eight ane ye should be.

Sing on your song, ye laily worm,
That ye did sing to me.--
I never sung that song but what
I would it sing to thee:

I was but seven year auld
When my mither she did die;
My father married the ae warst woman
The warld did ever see.

For she changed me to the laily worm
That lies at the fit o' the tree,
And my sister Masery
To the machrel of the sea.

She has ta'en a small horn,
An' loud an' shrill blew she,
An' a' the fish came her untill
But the proud machrel of the sea:
Ye shapeit me ance an unseemly shape,
An' ye's never mare shape me.

He has sent to the wood
For whins and for hawthorn,
An' he has ta'en that gay lady,
An' there he did her burn.

And every Saturday at noon
The machrel comes to me,
An' she takes my laily head
An' lays it on her knee,
An' kaims it wi' a siller kame
An' washes it i' the sea.

Seven knights hae I slain
Sin' I lay at the fit o' the tree;
An' ye war na my ain father
The eighth ane ye shou'd be.

He sent for his lady,
As fast as send cou'd he:
Whar is my son that ye sent frae me,
And my daughter, Lady Masery?

Your son is at our king's court
Serving for meat an' fee,
An' your daughter 's at our queen's court,
[A mary sweet an' free.]

Ye lie, ye lie, ye ill woman,
Sae loud as I hear ye lie:
My son 's the laily worm
That lies at the fit o' the tree,
And my daughter, Lady Masery,
Is the machrel of the sea.

She has ta'en a siller wan'
An' gien him strokes three,
An' he has started up the bravest knight
That ever your eyes did see.