| lyric | 1. My heart was ance as blyythe and free
As simmer days were lang;
But a bonnie, westlin’ weaver lad,
Has gart me change my sang.
Chorus:
To the weaver gin ye go, fair maid,
To the waevers gin ye go,
I rede ye right, gang ne’er at night,
To the weyvers gin ye go.
2. A bonnie, westlin weaver lad
Sat working at his loom;
He took my heart as wi’ a net,
In every knot and thrum.
3. I sat beside my warpin-wheel, done,
And aye Ica’d it roun’;
But every shot and every knock,
My heart it gae astoun.
4. The moon was sinking in the west,
Wi’ visage pale and wan,
And my bonnie, westlin weaver lad
Convoy’d me thro’ the glen.
5. But what was said, or what was
Shame fa’ me gin I tell;
But Oh I I fear the kintra soon
Will ken as weel‘s mysel ! |