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THE STRIPLING A stripling young making his moan, And aye he sings ochone, ochone; A stripling young making his moan, And aye he sings, My love's unkin'. He has ranged the greenwoods through, And leaves and wild flowers he did pu', Of every one he took a pull, Till he had got his arms full. He laid the wild flowers at his head, And laid the green leaves at his feet; And between the twa he laid him down, And the bonnie boy fell in a swoon. The neighbours when they saw him fall They went to his truelove and taul'; Oh said she, since ye saw him fall, I am glad that he's lying so well. I'm here, said he, dying for thee, Kill me or cure me speedily; Oh do ye think, ye poor silly ye, That I would fancy one like thee? For ye're a boy scarce eighteen, And I'm a woman of twenty-nine, And still and on ye wad slicht me, But I'll never be slighted by one like thee. Fan ye're a young man in your prime I will be an old woman syne And still and on ye wad slight me But I'll never be slighted by one like thee. Up she bore her stripling young Till through every vein the blood did run He had nae fine claes to put on But the hodden gray it was hamely spun. But she drest her boy wi' her own han' And she powdered his head both neat and fine. And she drest hersel' like a lady fine And went to meet her stripling young. Her lovers that loved her before And stil the stripling they did abhor, They said "Ye've ranged the meadows roon And ye've found the bramble in the hineren' (at last) He said, "Ye're like the sealey hound That a' the day the race has run Till by it came the beagle young I'm the bonny boy and the prize is mine. From Greig-Duncan Folk Song Collection From singing of Bell Robertson @courtship @aging filename[ STRPLING TUNE FILE: STRPLING CLICK TO PLAY RG |
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