Kellyburnbraes
Download Midi File
Lesley Nelson-Burns
Information
Lyrics
This ballad is a variant of Child Ballad #278 (The Farmer's Curst Wife).

The earliest version of this ballad in Child is Dixon's Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs (1846). However, it was entered on the Stationers' Register June 24, 1630. The words are noted as being sung to the tune Seminary Priest. (See link to Bruce Olsen's site for information and the earlier version of the ballad.)

Child notes that the curst wife who was a terror to demons appears throughout Europe and in the Orient as well.

For a complete list of Child Ballads at this site see Francis J. Child Ballads.

carl=old man
stot=young ox
staig=young horse
carlin=old woman

Ae day as the carl gaed up the lang glen,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 He met wi' the de'il, says 'How do ye fen?'
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
'I've got a bad wife, sir, that's a' my complaint,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 For, saving your presence, to her you're a saint.'
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
'It's neither your stot nor your staig I shall crave,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 But gie me your wife, man, for her I must have.'
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
'0 welcome, most kindly,' the blythe earl said,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 'But if ye can match her ye're waur than ye're ca'd.'
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
The de'il has got the auld wife on his back,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 And like a poor pedlar he's carried his pack.
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
He's carried her hame, where the pick o' his band
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 Turn out on her guard in the clap of a hand.
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
The carlin gaed thro' them like any wud bear,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 Whae'er she got hands on cam' near her nae mair.
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
The de'il he swore by the edge of his knife,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 He pitied the man that was tyed to a wife.
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
The Satan has travelled again wi' his pack,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 And to her auld husband he's carried her back.
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
'A de'il I hae been for the feck o' my life,
Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,
 But ne'er was in torments till I met wi' your wife.'
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
Additional Versions
From The Songs of Scotland, The Royal Edition, Vol. II and
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads
See Bibliography for full information.