Lord Gregory

Melody -

"O, wha will lace my shoes sae sma',
And wha will glove my hand,
And wha will lace my middle sae jimp
Wi' my new-made linen band?

"Wha will kaim my yellow hair
Wi' my new siller kaim?
And wha will faither my young son
Till Lord Gregory comes hame?

"But I will get a bonnie boat
And I will sail the sea,
For I maun gang tae Lord Gregory
Since he canna come hame to me.

"O, row your boat, ye mariners,
And bring me to dry land,
For yonder I see my love's castel
Close by the saut sea strand.

"O, open the door, Lord Gregory,
Open and let me in,
For the wind blows through my yellow hair
And I'm shiverin' to the chin."

"Awa', aw', ye wile woman,
Some ill death may ye dee,
Ye're but a witch or a wild warlock
Or mermaid o' the sea."

"I'm neither a witch nor wild warlock,
Nor mermaid o' the sea;
But I'm fair Annie o' Rough Royal,
O, open the door to me.

"O, dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory,
When ye sat at the wine?
We changed the rings frae our fingers
And I can show thee thine.

"O, dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory,
When in my faither's ha'?
'Twas there ye got your will o' me,
And that was worst o' a'."
  "Awa', awa', ye wile woman,
For here ye sanna win in,
Gae droon ye in the saut, saut sea
Or hang on the gallows pin."

When the cock did craw and the day did daw'
And the sun began to peep,
Then up did rise Lord Gregory
And sair, sair did he weep.

"I dreamed a dream, my mither dear,
The thocht o't gars me greet,
I dreamed fair Annie o' Rough Royal
Lay cauld deid at my feet."

"Gin it de Annie o' Rough Royal
That gars ye mak' this din,
She stood a' nicht at our ha' door,
But I didna let her in."

"O, wae betide ye, ill woman
Some ill death may ye dee,
That ye wadna hae letten poor Annie in
Or else hae waukened me."

He's gane doon to yon sea shore,
As fast as he could fare,
And he saw fair Annie in her boat,
And the wind it tossed her sair.

The wind blew loud and the sea grew rough
And the boat was dashed on shore;
Fair Annie floated on the wave,
But her young son rose no more.

Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair,
And made his heavy moan,
Fair Annie lay deid at his feet,
But his Bonnie young son was gone.

"O, wae betide ye, cruel mither,
Some ill death may ye dee,
That ye couldna hae letten fair Annie in,
When she cam' sae far to me.

The first printed text of this song was published by Herd in 1776. Child printed eleven texts and though the ballad is, today, somewhat rare, it is still occasionally encountered among Scots and Irish country singers.

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