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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344265" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love Gregor; Or, The Lass Of Lochroyan</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O wha will shoe my fu' fair foot?<br>And wha will glove my hand?<br>And wha will lace my middle jimp,<br>Wi' the new-made London band?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And wha will kaim my yellow hair,<br>Wi' the new made silver kaim?<br>And wha will father my young son,<br>Till Love Gregor come hame?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Your father will shoe your fu' fair foot,<br>Your mother will glove your hand;<br>Your sister will lace your middle jimp<br>Wi' the new-made London band.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Your brother will kaim your yellow hair,<br>Wi' the new made silver kaim;<br>And the king of heaven will father your bairn,<br>Till Love Gregor come haim.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But I will get a bonny boat,<br>And I will sail the sea,<br>For I maun gang to Love Gregor,<br>Since he canno come hame to me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O she has gotten a bonny boat,<br>And sailld the sa't sea fame;<br>She langd to see her ain true-love,<br>Since he could no come hame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O row your boat, my mariners,<br>And bring me to the land,<br>For yonder I see my love's castle,<br>Close by the sa't sea strand.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She has ta'en her young son in her arms,<br>And to the door she's gone,<br>And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd,<br>But answer got she none.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O open the door, Love Gregor,' she says,<br>'O open, and let me in;<br>For the wind blaws thro' my yellow hair,<br>And the rain draps o'er my chin.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,<br>You'r nae come here for good;<br>You'r but some witch, or wile warlock,<br>Or mer-maid of the flood.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock,<br>Nor mer-maid of the sea,<br>I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal;<br>O open the door to me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal--<br>And I trust ye are not she--<br>Now tell me some of the love-tokens<br>That past between you and me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor,<br>When we sat at the wine,<br>How we changed the rings frae our fingers?<br>And I can show thee thine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O yours was good, and good enough,<br>But ay the best was mine;<br>For yours was o' the good red goud,<br>But mine o' the diamonds fine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But open the door now, Love Gregor,<br>O open the door I pray,<br>For your young son that is in my arms<br>Will be dead ere it be day.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,<br>For here ye shanno win in;<br>Gae drown ye in the raging sea,<br>Or hang on the gallows-pin.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the cock had crawn, and day did dawn,<br>And the sun began to peep,<br>Then up he rose him, Love Gregor,<br>And sair, sair did he weep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O I dreamd a dream, my mother dear,<br>The thoughts o' it gars me greet,<br>That Fair Annie of Rough Royal<br>Lay cauld dead at my feet.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal<br>That ye make a' this din,<br>She stood a' last night at this door,<br>But I trow she wan no in.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O wae betide ye, ill woman,<br>An ill dead may ye die!<br>That ye woudno open the door to her,<br>Nor yet woud waken me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O he has gone down to yon shore-side,<br>As fast as he could fare;<br>He saw Fair Annie in her boat,<br>But the wind it tossd her sair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!<br>O Annie, winna ye bide?'<br>But ay the mair that he cried 'Annie,'<br>The braider grew the tide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!<br>Dear Annie, speak to me!'<br>But ay the louder he cried 'Annie,'<br>The louder roard the sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,<br>And dashd the boat on shore;<br>Fair Annie floats on the raging sea,<br>But her young son rose no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Love Gregor tare his yellow hair,<br>And made a heavy moan;<br>Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,<br>But his bonny young son was gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O cherry, cherry was her cheek,<br>And gowden was her hair,<br>But clay cold were her rosey lips,<br>Nae spark of life was there,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And first he's kissd her cherry cheek,<br>And neist he's kissed her chin;<br>And saftly pressd her rosey lips,<br>But there was nae breath within.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O wae betide my cruel mother,<br>And an ill dead may she die!<br>For she turnd my true-love frae my door,<br>When she came sae far to me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Lang">Andrew Lang</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344265" data-title="Love Gregor; Or, The Lass Of Lochroyan de Andrew Lang" data-description="'O wha will shoe my fu' fair foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle jimp,
Wi' the new-made London band?

'And wha will kaim my yellow hair,
Wi' the new made silver kaim?
And wha will father my young son,
Till Love Gregor com..."></div>
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