HISTORICAL BALLADS. No. II. 



BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. 



" The White Rose o' Scotland" 



LAMENT ye maidens a', 

 Frae Athol to the main, 



For the White Rose o' Scotland 

 You'll never see again : 



Your boiiriie Katie Gordon, 

 The flower o' a' her kin, 



Now weeps a lanely widow, 

 A foreign hold within. 



Then greet, O greet for me, ladies J 

 Greet, O greet for me ! 



For here I lie in prison strong, 

 An' a baby on my knee. 



O, he is a bonnie boy, 

 Of royal mien and eye ; 



Yet he is styled a traitor, 

 And cruelly doomed to die. 



There's nae e'e in heaven hee, 

 There's nae e'e below, 



To pity a poor widow, 

 Held by her deadly foe. 



Then greet, O greet for me, ladies ! &c. 



O ! gin I had the wings 

 Of the eagle or the dove, 



To bear away my bonnie brood 

 Unto the land I love ! 



But I will cherish hope, 

 Forlorn although I be, 



That the gracious Queen o' England 

 Will some day pity me. 



Then greet, O greet for me, ladies ! &c. 



Dear Scotland ! fare ye weel ; 

 Fareweel sweet banks o' Spey ! 



My youthfu' joys are faded 

 For ever and for aye. 



My bonnie baby's smile 

 Sae thrills my heart wi' pain, 



That the towers o' Castle Gordon 

 I'll never see again. 



Then greet, O greet for me, ladies ! 

 Greet, O greet for me ! 



For here I lie in prison strong. 

 An' a baby on my knee. 



