O, Waly, Waly
The water is wide, I cannot get o’er.
Neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that can carry two,
And both shall row, my love and I.
A ship there is, and she sails the sea.
She’s loaded deep as deep can be,
But not so deep as the love I’m in;
I know not if I sink or swim.
I leaned my back against an oak;
I thought it was a trusty tree.
But first it bent, and then it broke;
So did my love prove false to me.
I reached my finger into some soft bush,
Thinking the fairest flower to find;
I pricked my finger to the bone,
And left the fairest flower behind.
Oh, love be handsome, and love be kind,
Gay as a jewel when first ‘tis new,
But love grows old and waxes cold,
And fades away like morning dew.
Must I go bound while you go free?
Must I love a man who loves not me?
Must I be born with so little art
As to love a man who’ll break my heart?
When cockle shells turn silver bells,
Then will my love come back to me.
When roses bloom in winter’s gloom,
Then will my love return to me.
– Scottish Folk Song