Ewan MacColl — Sheath and Knife Roud 3960 Child 16

There was a sister and her brither The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood Wha maist entirely loved each other God, gif we had never been sib Sister, we'll gang tae the broom The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood O sister, I would lay thee doon God, gif we had never been sib Brither, alas, would ye dae sae? The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood I sooner would my deith gang taе God, gif we had never been sib A' thе folk they talk through ither The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood That the lass is wi' bairn to her brither God, gif we had never been sib O, brither ye hae done me ill The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood And we will baith burn on yon hill God, gif we had never been sib Ye'll gang tae my faither's stable The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood And tak' twa horses stout and able God, gif we had never been sib She's up on the white horse, he's on the black The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood Wi' his yew-tree bow slung fast tae his back God, gif we had never been sib They hadnae rode a mile but ane The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood E'er her pains they did come on God, gif we had never been sib I would gie a' my faither's land The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood For a good midwife at my command God, gif we had never been sib Ye'll gang tae yon high high hill The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood And tak' your how and arrows wi' ye God, gif we had never been sib When ye hear my loud, loud cry The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood Then bend your bow and let me die God, gif we had never been sib He's gane tae yon hill sae high The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood He bent his bow and let her die God, gif we had never been sib When he cam' tae her beside; The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood The babe was born, the lady deid God, gif we had never been sib Then he has ta'en his young, young son The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood And borne him tae a milk-woman God, gif we had never been sib He's gien himsel' a wound fu' sair The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood Well never gang to the broom nae mair God, gif we had never been sib O mither, I hae tint my knife; The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood I lo'ed it better than my life God, gif we had never been sib But I hae tint a better thing The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood The bonnie sheath my knife was in God, gif we had never been sib Is there no' a cutler intae Fife The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood That could mak' to thee a better knife? God, gif we had never been sib There's no' a cutler in a' the land The sun gaes tae oot owre the wood That could mak' sic a knife tae my command God, gif we had never been sib