Poems & Ballads Volume III Part 12

And what will ye give for your father's love?

One with another.

Fruits full few and thorns enough, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give for your mother's sake?

One with another.

Tears to brew and tares to bake, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your sister Jean?

One with another.

A bier to build and a babe to wean, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your sister Nell?

One with another.

The end of life and beginning of h.e.l.l, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your sister Kate?

One with another.

Earth's door and h.e.l.l's gate, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your brother Will?

One with another.

Life's grief and world's ill, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your brother Hugh?

One with another.

A bed of turf to turn into, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your brother John?

One with another.

The dust of death to feed upon, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your bauld bridegroom?

One with another.

A barren bed and an empty room, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your bridegroom's friend?

One with another.

A weary foot to the weary end, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye give your blithe bridesmaid?

One with another.

Grief to sew and sorrow to braid, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye drink the day ye're wed?

One with another.

But ae drink of the wan well-head, Mother, my mother.

And whatten a water is that to draw?

One with another.

We maun draw thereof a', we maun drink thereof a', Mother, my mother.

And what shall ye pu' where the well rins deep?

One with another.

Green herb of death, fine flower of sleep, Mother, my mother.

Are there ony fishes that swim therein?

One with another.

The white fish grace, and the red fish sin, Mother, my mother.

Are there ony birds that sing thereby?

One with another.

O when they come thither they sing till they die, Mother, my mother.

Is there ony draw-bucket to that well-head?

One with another.

There's a wee well-bucket hangs low by a thread, Mother, my mother.

And whatten a thread is that to spin?

One with another.

It's green for grace, and it's black for sin, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye strew on your bride-chamber floor?

One with another.

But one strewing and no more, Mother, my mother.

And whatten a strewing shall that one be?

One with another.

The dust of earth and sand of the sea, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye take to build your bed?

One with another.

Sighing and shame and the bones of the dead, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye wear for your wedding gown?

One with another.

Gra.s.s for the green and dust for the brown, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye wear for your wedding lace?

One with another.

A heavy heart and a hidden face, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye wear for a wreath to your head?

One with another.

Ash for the white and blood for the red, Mother, my mother.

And what will ye wear for your wedding ring?

One with another.

A weary thought for a weary thing, Mother, my mother.