Betsy Bell and Mary Gray
They were bonnie lasses
They built them a bower on yon burn-side
They theeked it all over wi' rashes (theeked - thatched)
They theeked it all over wi' rashes green
They theeked it all over wi' heather
The plague cam' from the borough town
And slew them both together 

They would not have their shoes of red
Nor would they have them yellow
But they would have their shoes of green
To ride through the streets of Yarrow
They thought to lie all in the church-yard
Among their noble kin
But they were laid in Stronach Haugh
All out beneath the sun 

As sung by Martin Carthy & Maddy Prior - [bad word] 

... the ballad itself, which was first printed by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe,under the title of 

The Twa Lasses:

O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray
They were twa bonnie lasses
They biggit a bower on yon burn-brae
And theekit it o'er wi' rashes
They theekit it o'er wi' rashes green
They theekit it o'er wi' heather
But the pest cam' frae the borough's toun
And slew them baith thegither
They thocht to lie in Methven kirkyard
Amang their noble kin
But they maun lie in Dronach-haugh
And beik fornenst the sun
Repeat 1

Betsy Belle And Mary Gray  

Traditional; arranged by Phil Cunningham   
Appears On:  Woman Of The House

Oh Betsy Belle and Mary Gray, they were two bonnie lasses
They biggit a bower on yon Burnside and theeked it o'er with rashes
Fair Betsy Belle I loved so well and thought I ne'er could alter
But Mary Gray's two cheeky eyes caused all my fancy falter
 [bad word] 
Oh Betsy Belle and Mary Gray, they were two bonnie lasses
They biggit a bower on yon Burnside and theeked it o'er with rashes

Betsy's hair's like flaxen gold, she smiles like a May morning
When Phoebus starts from Thoetus lap the hills with rays adorning
White is her hair, soft is her hand, her waist and feet flow gently
With every grace she [bad word]  her lips I vow are dainty
 [bad word] 

Mary's locks are like the crow, her eyes like diamond's glances
She's aye so clean red up and raw, she kills whene'er she dances
Blithe as a kid with wit and will, she's blooming, tight and tall is
And guides her airs so graceful still, oh Jove, she's like thy palace
 [bad word] 

Young Betsy Belle and Mary Gray, ye unco saer oppress us
Our fancies fee between ye two, ye are such bonnie lassies
Woe's me for both I cannot get, to one by law we're stinted
Then I'll draw straws and take my fate and be with one contented

Oh Betsy Belle and Mary Gray, they were two bonnie lassies
They biggit a bower on yon Burnside and theeked it o'er with rashes
But Betsy Belle nor Mary Gray could quell my fancy ever
The plague came from the burrows town, it slew them both together