The Dowie Dens of Yarrow (MacColl)


 * There was a lady in the north,
 * I ne'er could find her marrow;
 * She was courted by nine gentlemen,
 * And a ploughboy lad from Yarrow.


 * These nine sat drinking at their wine,
 * Sat drinking wine at Yarrow;
 * They made a vow among themselves
 * To fight with him on Yarrow.


 * She's washed his face, she's combed his hair
 * As oft she's done before-o
 * Gave him a brand down by his side (brand - trad. Scottish, meaning Sword)
 * To fight for her on Yarrow.


 * As he walked up yon high, high hills,
 * And down the glens so narrow
 * Nine armed men lay waiting him
 * Upon the braes of Yarrow.


 * It's three he wounded, three withdrew,
 * And three he killed on Yarrow,
 * Till her brother, John, came in behind
 * And pierced his body thorough.


 * "O father, dear, I dreamed a dream,
 * I fear it will prove sorrow.
 * I dreamed I was pulling heather green
 * On the dowie dens of Yarrow."


 * "O daughter dear, I read your dream,
 * To you it will prove sorrow;
 * Your true love John lies dead and slain
 * On the dowie dens of Yarrow."


 * As she walked up yon high, high hill,
 * And down the glen so narrow,
 * Twas there she found her true love John,
 * Lying cold and dead on Yarrow.


 * She washed his face, she combed his hair,
 * As she had done before o,
 * And she kissed the blood from off his wounds,
 * On the dowie dens of Yarrow.


 * Her hair it being three quarters long,
 * The colour it was yellow,
 * She wrapped it round his middle so small,
 * And carried him home to Yarrow.


 * "O daughter dear, dry up your tears,
 * And weep no more for sorrow.
 * I'll wed you to a better man
 * Than the ploughboy lad of Yarrow."


 * "O father dear, you've seven sons,
 * You may wed them all tomorrow,
 * But the fairest flower among them all,
 * Was the lad I wooed on Yarrow."