The King has been a puir prisoner
A prisoner lang in Spain
An Willie o the Winsbury
Has lain lang wi his dochter at hame.
2. Whit ails thee nou, my dochter Janet
Ye look sae pale an wan
Oh have ye got ony sair sickness
Or yet been sleepin wi a man?
3. Oh I hae got nae sair sickness
Nor yet been sleepin wi a man
But it is for you my faither dear
Sae lang been ower in Spain.
4. Tak aff, tak aff yer berrie-broun goun
Staun naked on a stane
That I might ken ye by yer shape
Whether ye be a maiden or nane
5. So she's taen aff her berrie-broun goun
Stoud naked on a stane
Her back it wis bent an her bellie wis slack
An her apron strings wadnae pin.
6. Oh wis it a laird or a duke or a knight
Or a man o birth or fame
Or wis it wi wan o my servin men
Sae newly been ower in Spain.
7. It wisnae a laird or a duke or a knight
Or a man o birth or fame
But it was wi Willie o the Winsbury
A could nae langer lie my lane.
8. Oh gin it be Wille o the Winsbury, he cried,
As weil A trust it be
Then afore that I dae eat or drink
High hangit he will be.
| 9. They've socht him up an they've socht him doun
They've socht him sair an lang
Till thair in the shade o an elder tree
It's Willie o the Winsbury they found
10. Rise up nou, Willie o the Winsbury, they cried
Rise up an haste away
For the king has sworn by his right hand
That it is yer dyin day
11. Oh wha hae I robbed or wha hae I slain
Or wha hae I dune any wrang?
That I sude fear tae face the king
An the time sall no be lang.
12. An whan he cam the king afore
He was dressed aa in the silk
His cheeks they were like the berries red
An his skin was as white as the milk.
13. It is nae wonder, says the king
That my dochter's luve ye hae wan
For had A been a woman as A am a man
My bedfellow ye wad hae been.
14. Will ye mairry my dochter Janet
By the truth o your right hand?
Or will ye marry my dochter Janet
An I mak ye a laird o the land.
15. O A will mairry yer dochter Janet
By the truth o my right hand
An I will mairry yer dochter Janet
But the de'il tak aa yer land
16. An he's mounted her on a milk white steed
Himsel on a dapple gray
An he's made her the lady o as much land
As she'd ride in a lang simmer's day.
|
