Poem by Walter Scott

The Lament of the Border Widow

My love he built me a bonny bower,
And clad it a' wi' lilye flour,
A brawer bower ye ne'er did see,
Than my true love built for me.

There came a man by middle day,
He spied his sport, and went away;
And brought the King that very night,
Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.

He slew my knight to me sae dear;
He slew my knight, and poin'd* his gear;
My servants all for life did flee,
And left me in extremitie.

I sew'd his sheet, making my mane;
I watch'd the corpse, myself alane;
I watch'd his body, night and day;
No living creature came that way.

I took his body on my back,
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;
I digg'd a grave and laid him in,
And happ'd him with the sod sae green.

But think na ye my heart was sair,
When I laid the moul on his yellow hair;
O think na ye my heart was wae,
When I turn'd about, away to gae?

Nae living man I'll love again,
Since that my lovely knight was slain;
Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair
I'll chain my heart for evermair.

1. The Monks of Bangor’s March
2. On Ettrick Forest’s Mountains Dun
3. Lines Addressed to Ranald Macdonald, Esq., of Staffa
4. The Sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill
5. The Maid of Isla

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