Please, help me to complete and correct this transcription. The ballad is LAIRD OF WARISTON, number 194 in F. J. Child's The English and Scottish Popular Ballads.

The Laird o' Warriston
Gordeanna McCulloch, In Freenship's Name, Greentrax CDTRAX 123, 1997. From the singing of Ewan MacColl.

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 nourice'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 on 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 whase is that bairn at your knee?

She turnd hersel' richt roond aboot
O why think ye sae ill o me?
Ye canna ... (your young 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 a 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 nourice she took the deed in hand
And ... I wat her fee she won
She cast the knot and drew the (nus?)
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 heading hill
Strike aff this dowie head 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 heading-hill
And headed her baith neat and fine

O Warriston, O Warriston
Wi yer gear an' gowd an' pride an' a'
...
And your bonnie lady's cruel doonfall