Oh it’s of a shepherd’s daughter
Keeping sheep all on the hill-o
And by there comes a king’s fair knight
And he would have his will.
He’s ta’en her by the middle sma’
And by the silken goon-o
And he has had his will before
He rose her up again.
“Now that you’ve had your will o’ me
Come tell yo me your name-o
So when our bairnie it is born
I might call him the same.”
“Oh some they call me Jack,” he said
“And some they call me John-o
But when I’m at the King’s high court
They call me Willful Will.”
He’s mounted on his milk-white steed
And then away he did ride-o
She’s kilted her petticoat round her knee
And run at the horse’s side.
And when she came to the waterside
She bowed her head and swam-o
And when she came to the other side
She took to her heels and ran.
When she came to the King’s high court
She tirled at the pin-o
And wha was there but the King himself
To let the fair maid in.
“Good morning to you, fair maid,” he cried.
“Good morning, sir,” says she-o
“Have ye a knight intae your hall
This day has robbèd me?”
“Has he robbed you o’ your gold
Or any o’ your purse?”
“No, he’s robbed me of my maidenhead
And that’s a damned sight worse!”
“Well, if he be a married man
Then hangèd he will be-o
But if he be a single man
His body I’ll give to thee.”
The King’s called out his merry men
By one by two by three-o
And Willie was once the foremost man
But last behind come he.
And he came crippled and he came blind
Came fourfold o’er a tree-o
But be he crippled or be he blind
The very same mannie was he.
“Had I drunk the well-water
When I had drink the wine-o
To have a shepherd’s daughter
For to be a true lover of mine.”
But when they came intae the kirk
The joke was to be seen
For she was the Laird of Fyvie’s lass
And he was a squire’s son.