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Andrew Lang - The Elphin Nourrice
Work rating: Low

I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
An` a cow low down in yon glen;
Lang, lang will my young son greet,
Or his mither bid him come ben.

I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
An` a cow low down in yon fauld;
Lang, lang will my young son greet,
Or is mither take him frae cauld.

Waken, Queen of Elfan,
An hear your Nourrice moan.
O moan ye for your meat,
Or moan ye for your fee,
Or moan ye for the ither bounties
That ladies are wont to gie?

I moan na for my meat,
Nor yet for my fee,
But I mourn for Christened land--
It`s there I fain would be.

O nurse my bairn, Nourice, she says,
Till he stan` at your knee,
An` ye`s win hame to Christen land,
Whar fain it`s ye wad be.

O keep my bairn, Nourice,
Till he gang by the hauld,
An` ye`s win hame to your young son,
Ye left in four nights auld.
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