That's straight from Callander
I'm in search of Lord Gregory
The rain beats my yellow locks
And the dew wets me still
My babe is cold in my arms
Lord Gregory's not here and
For he's gone to bonny Scotland
For to bring home his new queen
So leave now these windows
You should hide your downfall
Who'll shoe my babe's little feet?
Who'll put gloves on her hand?
Who will tie my babe's middle
Who'll comb my babe's yellow hair
Who will be my babe's father
Till Lord Gregory comes home?
Do you remember, love Gregory
For yours was pure linen, love
And mine but coarse cloth
For yours cost a guinea, love
Do you remember, love Gregory
For yours was pure silver, love
For yours cost a guinea, love
And my curse on you, Mother
Sure, I dreamed the girl I love
Came a- knocking at my door
Sleep down you foolish son
For it's long ago that weary girl
Well go saddle me the black horse
Go saddle me the best horse
And I'll range over mountains
Till I find the girl I love