What a Voice, What a Voice

What a voice, what a voice, what a voice I hear,
It's like the voice of my Willie dear.
And if I had wings like that swallow high
I would clasp in the arms of my Billy boy.
When my apron it hung low
My true love followed through frost and snow.
But now my apron is tae ma chin;
He passes me by and he'll ne'er speor in.
It's upon and doon yon white choose brae,
He's called a strange girlie to his knee
An he's telt her a tale that he's once told me.
There is a black bird sits on yon tree,
Some says it is blind and it cannae see
Some says it is blind and it cannae see
And that's what my true love's tae me.
Oh I wish, I wish, oh I wish in vain,
I wish I was a maid again.
But a maid again I will never be
'Til a apple it grows on a orange tree.
I wish, I wish my babe was born
An smiling on some nurse's knee.
An for myself to be dead and gone
An the long green grass growing over me.