DOWIE DENS OF YARROW



There lived a lady in the North

You could scarcely find her marrow

She was courted by nine noble lords

And a plooman lad fae Yarrow



They nine sat drinking at the wine

Sat drinking wine in Yarrow

And they've made a vow among themselves

For tae fecht for her on Yarrow



She's washed his face, she's combed his hair

As oft she'd done afore oh

She's made him like a noble lord

For tae fecht for her on Yarrow



As he gaed doon the high, high hill

Doon tae the howe o' Yarrow

'Twas there he spied nine armed men

Come tae fecht wi' him on Yarrow



There's three he slew and three withdrew

And three he wounded sairly oh

Till her brother John came in fae behind

'And has wounded him most foully



"Oh, faither dear, I dreamed a dream

I doubt it will bring sorrow

I dreamed I pulled the heather green

On the dowie dens o' Yarrow"



So she gaed doon the high, high hill

Doon tae the howe o' Yarrow

And there she's found her lover John

Lying pale and wan on Yarrow



Her hair it was three quarters long

The color it was yellow

She's wrapped it round his middle sae small

And she's bore him up frae Yarrow



"Oh faither dear, ye've seven sons

Ye may wed them all tomorrow

For the fairest floo'r amang them a'

Was the lad that I lo'ed on Yarrow



Child #214

@courtship @murder

sung by Jean Redpath

filename[ YARROW1

play.exe YARROW1

SF

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