The Girls Lamentation

With grief and mourning I sit to spin;    My Love passed by, and he didn't come in;    He passes by me, both day and night,    And carries off my poor heart's delight.    There is a tavern in yonder town,    My Love goes there and he spends a crown;    He takes a strange girl upon his knee,    And never more gives a thought to me.    Says he, 'We'll wed without loss of time,    And sure our love's but a little crime;'—    My apron-string now it's wearing short,    And my Love he seeks other girls to court.    O with him I'd go if I had my will,    I'd follow him barefoot o'er rock and hill;    I'd never once speak of all my grief    If he'd give me a smile for my heart's relief.    In our wee garden the rose unfolds,    With bachelor's-buttons and marigolds;    I'll tie no posies for dance or fair,    A willow-twig is for me to wear.    For a maid again I can never be,    Till the red rose blooms on the willow tree.    Of such a trouble I've heard them tell,    And now I know what it means full well.    As through the long lonesome night I lie,    I'd give the world if I might but cry;    But I mus'n't moan there or raise my voice,    And the tears run down without any noise.    And what,

O what will my mother say?    She'll wish her daughter was in the clay.    My father will curse me to my face;    The neighbours will know of my black disgrace.    My sister's buried three years, come Lent;    But sure we made far too much lament.    Beside her grave they still say a prayer—    I wish to God 'twas myself was there!    The Candlemas crosses hang near my bed;    To look at them puts me much in dread,    They mark the good time that's gone and past:    It's like this year's one will prove the last.    The oldest cross it's a dusty brown,    But the winter winds didn't shake it down;    The newest cross keeps the colour bright;    When the straw was reaping my heart was light.    The reapers rose with the blink of morn,    And gaily stook'd up the yellow corn;    To call them home to the field I'd run,    Through the blowing breeze and the summer sun.    When the straw was weaving my heart was glad,    For neither sin nor shame I had,    In the barn where oat-chaff was flying round,    And the thumping flails made a pleasant sound.    Now summer or winter to me it's one;    But oh! for a day like the time that's gone.    I'd little care was it storm or shine,    If I had but peace in this heart of mine.    Oh! light and false is a young man's kiss,    And a foolish girl gives her soul for this.    Oh! light and short is the young man's blame,    And a helpless girl has the grief and shame.    To the river-bank once I thought to go,    And cast myself in the stream below;    I thought 'twould carry us far out to sea,    Where they'd never find my poor babe and me.    Sweet Lord, forgive me that wicked mind!    You know I used to be well-inclined.    Oh, take compassion upon my state,    Because my trouble is so very great.    My head turns round with the spinning wheel,    And a heavy cloud on my eyes I feel.    But the worst of all is at my heart's core;    For my innocent days will come back no more.