1. "Annan water's wading deep,
And my love Annie's wondrous bonny'
And I am laith she suld weet her feet,
Because I love her best of ony.

2. "Gar saddle me the bonny black,
Gar saddle sune, and make him ready;
For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,
And all to see my bonny ladye.” --

3. He has loupen on the bonny black,
He stirr'd him wi' the spur right sairly;
But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,
I think the steed was wae and weary.

4. He has loupen on the bonny grey,
He rade the right gate and the ready;
I trow he would neither stint nor stay,
For he was seeking his bonny ladye.

5. O he has ridden o'er field and fell,
Through muir and moss, and mony a mire;
His spurs o' steel were sair to bide,
And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.

6. "Now, bonny grey, now play your part!
Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,
Wi' corn and hay ye'se be fed for aye,
And never spur sall make you wearie.” --

7. The grey was a mare, and a right good mare;
But when she wan the Annan water,
She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair,
Had a thousand merks been wadded at her.

8. "O boatman, boatman, put off your boat!
Put off your boat for gowden money!
I cross the drumlie stream the night,
Or never mair I see my honey.” --

9. "O I was sworn sae late yestreen,
And not by ae aith, but by many;
And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland,
I dare na take ye through to Annie.” --

10. The side was stey, and the bottom deep,
Frae bank to bank the water pouring;
And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear,
For she heard the water-kelpy roaring.

11. O he has pou'd aff his dapperpy coat,
The silver buttons glanced bonny;
The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,
He was sae full of melancholy.

12. He has ta'en the ford at that stream tail;
I wot he swam both strong and steady,
But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail,
And he never saw his bonny ladye!

13. O wae betide the frush saugh wand!
And wae betide the bush of brier,
It brake into my true love's hand,
When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.

14. "And wae betide ye, Annan Water,
This night that ye are a drumlie river!
For over thee I'll build a bridge,
That ye never more true love may sever.” --

This is given by Child in an appendix to his no. 215, "Rare Willie Drowned in Yarrow.” I like Scott's verses; they have for me the real common touch, and the direness of the tragic ballad.

HTML line breaks added in place of double spacing. --JoeClone, 28-Apr-02.

Wolfgang

Oh Annan Water's wondrous deep, and my love Annie is wondrous bonny
I'm loath that she should wet her feet, because I love her best of any
Go saddle to me the bonny grey mare, go saddle her soon and make her ready,
For I must cross that river tonight and all to see my bonny lady.

And woe betide you Annan water, at night you are a gloomy river,
And over you I'll build a bridge, that never more true love may sever.

And he has ridden o'er field and fell, o'er moor and moss and many a mire
His spurs of steel sore to bite, and for the mare's feet flew the fire
The more flew on o'er moor and moor and when she'd won the Annan Water
She couldn't have rid a furlong more, had a thousand whips been laid upon her.

And woe betide you Annan water, at night you are a gloomy river,
And over you I'll build a bridge, that never more true love may sever.

Oh, boatman come, put-off your boat; put-off your boat for gold and money,
For I must cross that stream tonight, or never more I'll see my Annie.
The sides are steep, the waters deep, from bank to brae the water's pouring
And you bonny grey mare she sweats for fear, she stands to hear the water roaring.

And woe betide you Annan water, at night you are a gloomy river,
And over you I'll build a bridge, that never more true love may sever.

And he has tried to swim that stream, and he swam on both strong and steady
But the river was broad and strength did fail, and he never saw his bonny lady.
Oh woe betide the willow wand, and woe betide the bush of briar,
For it broke beneath her true love's hands, when strength did fail and limbs did tire.

And woe betide you Annan water, at night you are a gloomy river,
And over you I'll build a bridge, that never more true love may sever
That never more true love may sever.
-----
Traditional
Sung by Nic Jones on "Ballads and Songs.”

See:
http://www.sarcon.demon.co.uk/engfolk/nicjones.htm

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 28-Apr-02.