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The Gardener

Scotland.
Tune dates from 1827 or earlier.
MIDI


    Proud Maisrie stands in her bower door
    As straight as a willow wand
    And by it comes a gardener lad
    With a red rose in his hand.
         And by it comes a gardener lad
         With a red rose in his hand.

    O you shall have my rose, fair maid
    If you'll give your flower to me
    And among the flowers in my garden
    I'll shape a gown for thee.
         And among the flowers in my garden
         I'll shape a gown for thee.

    The lily white shall be your smock
    Becomes your body best
    And the gillyflower to be your quill
    And the primrose in your breast.
         And the gillyflower to be your quill
         And the primrose in your breast.

    Your gown shall be the smelling thyme
    And your petticoat camovine
    And your apron of the salads neat
    That taste both sweet and fine.
         And your apron of the salads neat
         That taste both sweet and fine.

    Your gloves shall be the marigold
    All glittering to your hand
    Well dropped o'er with the blue blaewort
    That grows among white land.
         Well dropped o'er with the blue blaewort
         That grows among white land.

    Your stockings shall be of the broad kail blade
    That is both broad and long
    And narrow, narrow at the coot
    And broad, broad at the brawn.
         And narrow, narrow at the coot
         And broad, broad at the brawn.

    Since you have shaped a gown for me
    Among your summer flowers
    It's I'll repay you back again
    Among the winter showers.
         It's I'll repay you back again
         Among the winter showers.

    The new fallen snow shall be your shirt
    And lie your body next
    And the murk black rain shall be your coat
    And a wind gale at your breast.
         And the murk black rain shall be your coat
         And a wind gale at your breast.

    The steed that you shall ride upon
    Shall be the winter snell
    Well bridled with the norland wind
    And cold, sharp showers of hail.
         Well bridled with the norland wind
         And cold, sharp showers of hail.

    The hat that's be upon your head
    Shall be of the weather grey
    And when you come into my sight
    I'll wish you were away.
         And when you come into my sight
         I'll wish you were away.


(It seems some ladies need more than flowers.)
    Key:
    quill . . . . . . . . . . . ruff or cap
    camovine  . . . . . . . . . chamomile
    kail  . . . . . . . . . . . colewart
    coot  . . . . . . . . . . . ankle
    brawn . . . . . . . . . . . calf
    snell . . . . . . . . . . . sharp