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There was a lady in the NorthI ne’er did see her marrow,She was courted by nine gentlemenAnd a ploughboy lad frae Yarrow.Those nine sat drinking at the wineA drinking wine in Yarrow,They made a vow amongst themselvesTo fecht for her on Yarrow.She’s washed his face, she’s kaimed his hair,As she had done afore O,And she’s made him look just like a lairdTo fecht for her on Yarrow.As he walked doon yon high, high hillDoon by the hames o’ Yarrow,There he saw nine arm-ed menCome to fecht wi’ him on Yarrow.There’s nine o’ you, there’s ane o’ meIts an unequal marrow,But I’ll fecht you a’, yin by yinOn the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.And there they flew, and there he slewAnd there he wounded sairly‘Til her brither John came in frae beyondAnd pierced his heart most foullyOh father dear, I dreamed a dream,A dream of dule and sorrowI dreamed I was pu’ing the heather greenOn the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.Oh dochter dear I read your dream,I doubt it will bring sorrow,For your lover John lies pale and wanOn the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.As she walked doon yon high, high hillDoon by the hames o’ Yarrow,There she saw her lover dearLying pale and cold on Yarrow.Her hair it being three-quarters long,The color it was yellow,She wrappit it round his middle sae sma’And bore him doon tae Yarrow.O father dear, ye’ve seeven sons,Ye may wed them a’ tomorrow,But the fairest flo’er amang them a’Is the lad I lov’d on Yarrow.dowie: dismalden: small valleyne’er: nevermarrow: equal, contestfrae: fromfecht: fightlaird: lorddoon: downhames: homeswi’: withane: oneyin: onesairly: sorelybrither: brotherfrae beyond: from behinddule: distress of mindpu’ing: pullingdochter: daughterdoubt: suspectwrappit: wrappedsae: sosma’:smallye’ve: you haveseeven: sevena’: allflo’er: floweramang: amonglov’d: loved