Word is to the kitchen gone
And word is to the hall
And word is up to Madam the Queen
And that's the worst of all
That Mary Hamilton's borne a babe
To the highest Stuart of all
Oh rise arise Mary Hamilton
Arise and tell to me
What thou hast done with thy wee babe
I saw and heard weep by thee
I put him in a tiny boat
And cast him out to sea
That he might sink or he might swim
But he'll never come back to me
Oh rise arise Mary Hamilton
Arise and come with me
There is a wedding in Glasgow Town
This night we'll go and see
She put not on her robe of black
Nor yet her robe of brown
But she put on her robe of white
To ride into Glasgow Town
As she rode into Glasgow Town
The city for to see
The Bailiff's wife and Provost's wife
Cried Oh and alas for thee!
You need not weep for me, she cried
You need not weep for me
For had I not slain my own wee babe
This death I would not dee