Classic Poem

Fair Marjorie sat i her bower-door,
Sewin her silken seam,
When by then cam her false true-love,
Gard a' his bridles ring.

‘Open, open, my true-love,
Open an let me in;’
‘I dare na, I dare na, my true-love,
My brethren are within.’

‘Ye lee, ye lee, my ain true-love,
Sae loud I hear ye lee!
For or I cam thrae Lothian banks
They took fare-weel o me.’

The wind was loud, that maid was proud,
An leath, leath to be dung,
But or she wan the Lothian banks
Her fair coulour was gane.
He took her up in his armis,
An threw her in the lynn.

Up then spak her eldest brother,
Said, What is yon I see?
Sure, youn is either a drowned ladie
Or my sister Marjorie.

Up then spak her second brother,
Said, How will we her ken?
Up then spak her … brother,
There a hinnie-mark on her chin.

About the midle o the night
The cock began to craw;
About the middle o the night
The corpse began to thraw.

‘O whae has doon ye wrang, sister?
O whae has doon ye wrang?’

‘Young Boonjie was the ae first man
I laid my love upon;
He was sae proud an hardie
He threw me oer the lynne.’

‘O shall we Boonjie head, sister?
Or shall we Boonjie hang?
O shall we pyke out his twa grey eyes,
An punish him or he gang?’

‘O ye sanna Boonjie head, brother,
Ye sana Boonjie hang;
But ye maun pyke out his twa grey eyes,
An punish him or he gang.’

‘The ae best man about your house
Maun wait young Boonjie on.’