William The Coroner’s Forensic Files

Thursday, 14, January, 2010

Helen of Kirkconnell

Filed under: Poetry — williamthecoroner @ 16:38

I wish I were where Helen lies,
Night and day on me she cries;
O that I were where Helen lies,
On fair Kirconnell Lee.

Curst be the heart that thought the thought,
And curst the hand that fired the shot,
When in my arms burd* Helen dropt,
And died to succour me!

O think na ye my heart was sair,
When my love dropt down and spak nae mair
There did she swoon wi’ meikle care,
On fair Kirconnell Lee.

As I went down the water side,
None but my foe to be my guide,
None but my foe to be my guide,
On fair Kirconnell Lee;

I lighted down my sword to draw,
I hacked him in pieces sma’,
I hacked him in pieces sma’,
For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare!
I’ll make a garland of thy hair,
Shall bind my heart for ever mair,
Until the day I die.

O that I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,
Says, “Haste and come to me!” –

O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!
If I were with thee, I were blest,
Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest,
On fair Kirconnell Lee.

I wish my grave were growing green,
A winding -sheet drawn ower my een,
And I in Helen’s arms lying,
On fair Kirconnell Lee.

I wish I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
And I am weary of the skies
For her sake that died for me.
The story is HERE:  Don’t cross the Scots.

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