Where Helen Lies


O that I were where Helen lies, Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies In fair Kirkconnel lee. O Helen fair beyond compare, A ringlet of thy flowing hair, I'll wear it still for ever mair Until the day I die. Curs'd be the hand that shot the shot, And curs'd the gun that gave the crack! Into my arms bird Helen lap, And died for sake o' me! O think na ye but my heart was sair; My Love fell down and spake nae mair; There did she swoon wi' meikle care On fair Kirkconnel lee. I lighted down, my sword did draw, I cutted him in pieces sma'; I cutted him in pieces sma'; On fair Kirkconnel lee. O Helen chaste, thou wert modest, If I were with thee I were blest Where thou lies low and takes thy rest On fair Kirkconnel lee. I wish my grave was growing green, A winding sheet put o'er my e'en, And I in Helen's arms lying In fair Kirkconnel lee! I wish I were where Helen lies! Night and day on me she cries: O that I were where Helen lies On fair Kirkconnel lee.

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John Shedden

About this work

This is a song by Robert Burns. It was written in 1788 and is read here by John Shedden.

Themes for this song

anguishwoman

Selected for 12 September

In 1791 Burns gave up his accustomed life as a country dweller; he moved to Dumfries and the farmer became a townsman. Today's selection is a somewhat melodramatic lament with a local subject and setting.

Donny O'Rourke

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