Roberto, this is how it sounds to me:-

My mither was an ill woman
At fifteen years she married me
I hadna wit to guide a man
Alas! ill fortune guided me

O Warriston, O Warriston
I wish that ye may sink for sin!
I was but bare fifteen years auld
When first I cam your yetts within

I hadna been a month a bride
When my guid lord gaed tae the sea
I bore a bairn ere he cam hame
And sat it on the nurse's knee

Then it fell oot upon a day
That my guid lord cam fae the sea
I dressed mysel' in rich attire
As blythe as ony bird in tree

I took my young son in my airms
My Lord he hailed me courteoslie:
I'm blythe to see ye, my dear lass
But wha's is that bairn at your knee?

She turnd hersel' richt roond aboot
O why think ye sae ill o me?
Ye ken I was ower young a bride
To ken ony ither man but thee

Ye lee, ye lee, my lady gay
And black's the tongue that spak the lee
I never got you with the bairn
While I was sailing on the sea

O Warriston, ye acted ill
Tae lift your hand tae your ain lady
He struck her till the blood ran doon
And cursed his bairn maist bitterly

Sair she grat as she gaed hame
And O the sault tear blint her ee
Her faither's Jock ill counselled her
It was to gar her lord tae dee

The nurse she took the deed in hand
And ill I wat her fee she won
She cast the knot and drew the noose
That killed the Laird o' Warriston

Word has gane through bower and ha
And word has gane to Edinborough toon
That the lassie's killed her ain dear Lord
Aye, killed the Laird o' Warriston

O tie my kirchie roond my face
Let no the sun upon it shine
And tak me tae yon heiding hill
Strike aff this dowie heid o mine

They're taen her oot when nicht did fall
Nor sun nor moon on her did shine
They've taen her tae yon heiding-hill
And heided her baith neat and fine

O Warriston, O Warriston
Wi yer gear an' gowd an' pride an' a'
Ye bear the weight o' your ain daith
And your bonnie lady's cruel doonfall

Hope this is of some help.