THE NEW BALLAD.
OF THE LASS OF PEATIES MILL.
To its own Proper Tune.
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INto the month of March,
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As I went to the North,
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Beyond the Carnemont.
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Far beyond Tay and Forth,
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I came to Peaty Kirk,
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And there I lodg'd all night;
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Where that I saw a Lass
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Of beauty shining bright,
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I thought her my delight,
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When I did her behold:
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And thought I would not quite
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Her for her weight of Gold.
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Her beauty for to tell,
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Doth far surmount my skill.
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This dainty Nymph was call'd,
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The Lass of Peaties Mill.
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This Lass of Peaties Mill,
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To speak for none will spare:
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Many one came to woo her,
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Because she was so fair,
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Because she was so fair, Love,
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And blinkt blyth in her eye,
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O if this bonny Lassie,
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Would grant to marrie me.
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From Peatie Kirk I went,
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Then down to Peaties Mill,
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To give this Lass a visit,
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And asked her good will,
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She answer'd me discreetly,
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With words loving and kind:
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And there we kissed sweetly,
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But fortune crost my mind.
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For if I lov'd her well,
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Her father lov'd her better:
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Her friends and mother lov'd her so,
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That I could never get her,
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But I shall write a Letter,
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When all these days are done,
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Unto the gouk that gets her,
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He wears but my old shoon.
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For after speaking to her friends,
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To her I did resort;
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And since her friends refused me,
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I thought to play a sport:
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And went to seek comfort
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Unto this Maid most rare;
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Because in heart I thought,
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I nev'r saw one so fair.
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Sweet heart to her I said,
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Will thou grant me good will,
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And I shall bless the day,
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I came to Peaties Mill.
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Alace! for love I die;
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For never saw I none,
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Like thee for rare beautie.
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Good Sir, if ye speak true,
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And faithful, did she say,
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I shall be very loath
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For to cast you away.
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Welcome both night and day,
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Ye may come me untill.
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And heartly welcome shall ye be
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To grind at Peaties Mill.
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To grind's not my desire:
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But for to play with you,
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My heart is set on fire,
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Dear heart, for love of you,
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Therefore hear what I say,
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And grant me thy good will,
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And I shall bless the day
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I came to Peaties Mill.
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Then sw[ee]tly we did kiss,
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And then began to play:
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But when her friends did miss
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Her Maiden-head away.
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They fought me night and day;
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Till that I came them till:
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And I was welcome too
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To grind at Peaties Mill.
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We wedded were with speed,
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But I too long did stay:
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For she delivered
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Was on her wedding day.
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But now I'le mourn no more,
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As I before have done,
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Nor will my sweet compare
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Again to my old shoon.
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She at this time brought forth
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A rare and gallant boy,
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Which was his mothers mirth;
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Also his fathers joy.
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Then hence away annoy,
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For all that hath been done:
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There is no frolick boy,
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Dare put on my old shoon.
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