New pease strae/The Minister's Maid

WHEN I was a bonny wie lassie,
I lived by yon river side;
A bonny wie laddie courted me,
for to make me his bride:
My master being one of the Clergy,
I kentna weel how to do;
But I courted ay wi’ my laddie,
(illegible text)

​We waited a’ opportunities,
ay when they were frae hame;
We kiss’d and clapped each other.
So merry as we were then!
So merry as we were then,
our vows for to renew!
So ay I courted my laddie,
and pleas’d the Minister too.

It was on a fine simmer-evening
I went out for to meet with my lad,
He took me in his arms,
our hearts being wond’rous glad!
And what came o’ me then,
ye wadna believe me now;
But ay I courted my laddie,
and pleas’d the Minister too.

When I came hame to my mistress,
she scolded and she flet:
Says, Where have been wa’king,
that ye have stay’d sae late ?
That ye have stay’d sae late?
your master I will tell.
Thinks I, madam, ye needna fash,
for I’ll ha’e to do that mysel’.

But I keepet ay up my courage,
and madna muckle din;
And my laddie came ay and saw me,
ay’s he gaed out and in.
And ay’s he gaed out and in,
ay he pried my mou’.
So ay I courted my laddie,
and pleas’d the Minister too.

​But when the simmer was over,
O pale and wane grew I!
Like ane risen out o’ a fever,
or ane just gaun to die!
My master he came an' asked me,
what was the matter wi’ me ?
If I knew any thing that wou’d case me,
at my comman’ it shou’d be.

Oh! I maun own my crime, Sir,
tho’ it be to my shame and disgrace,
I went out for to meet wi’ the lad,
the lad that gi’es out your mass;
His voice it was too shrill,
he pitch'd o’er high for me;
And ay sinsyne I remember
that I been likin’ to die.

Then my laddie was sent for,
and he came hingin’ his mou’;
Says Mess John had you been a good bairn
we wadna hae sent for you:
My lassie is lyin’ sick,
an’ on, you she lays a’ the blame ;
An’ ye ken ony way ye’ve wrang’d her,
ye’ll raise her as speedy again.

O I never harm’d your lassie,
neither by night nor by day;
But it was on a fine simmer-evening,
when crossing o’er the way,
When crossing o’er the way,
I learn’d her how to sing,
And pitching the high notes o’ bangor,
has driven her a’ out o’ tune.

​Be pleas’d to marry your lassie,
O marry your lassie to me!
For I’ m resolv'd to hae her,
whether she live or die ;
Whether she live or die,
to mak her my wedded wife :
So I’ll live with my lassie
a sweet and contented life.