The Braes o Yarrow

No: 214; variant: 214O

  1. ‘I DREAMD a dreary dream last night, God keep us a’ frae sorrow! I dreamd I pu’d the birk sae green Wi my true love on Yarrow.’
  2. ‘I’ll read your dream, my sister dear, I’ll tell you a’ your sorrow; You pu’d the birk wi your true luve, He’s killd, he’s killd on Yarrow!’
  3. ‘O gentle wind, that blaweth south To where my love repaireth, Convey a kiss from his dear mouth, And tell me how he fareth!
  4. ‘But oer yon glen run armed men, Have wrought me dule and sorrow; They’ve slain, they’ve slain the comliest swain, He bleeding lies on Yarrow.’