|
Traditional |
|
Betsy Bell and Mary Gray |
|
They were bonny lasses |
|
They bigget a bower on yon burnside |
|
And theekit it o'er wi' rashes. |
|
They theekit it o'er wi' rashes green |
|
They theekit it o'er wi' heather |
|
But the plague came from the burrows-town |
|
And it slew them baith thegither. |
|
They would not have their shoes of red |
|
Nor would they have them yellow |
|
But they would have their shoes of green |
|
To ride through the streets of Yarrow. |
|
They thought to lye in Methren Kirk yard |
|
Among their noble kin |
|
But they were laid in Stronach Hall |
|
All art beneath the sun. |
|
Betsy Bell and Mary Gray |
|
They were bonny lasses |
|
They bigget a bower on yon burnside |
|
And theekit it o'er wi' rashes. |
