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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/37738-8.txt b/37738-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..827ecc5 --- /dev/null +++ b/37738-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12227 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads, Volume II (of +8), by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: English and Scottish Ballads, Volume II (of 8) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis James Child + +Release Date: October 12, 2011 [EBook #37738] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOL 2 OF 8 *** + + + + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Marilynda +Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +In this Plain Text version, ASCII and Latin-1 character sets have +been used; italic typeface is represented by _surrounding +underscores_; small caps typeface is represented by ALL CAPS. + +Linenotes have been grouped at the end of each ballad. Linenote +anchors in the form [L##] have been added to the text (they are not +in the original but alert the reader to the presence of a note +refering to line number ##). + +Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers, +punctuation or inconsistent formatting have been corrected without +comment. Where changes have been made to the wording these are +listed at the end of the book. + + * * * * * + + ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH + BALLADS. + + EDITED BY + + FRANCIS JAMES CHILD. + + VOLUME II. + + BOSTON: + LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY. + M.DCCC.LX. + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by LITTLE, + BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of + Massachusetts. + + RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY + H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND. + + + BOOK II. + + Page + + 1 a. Glasgerion 3 + 1 b. Glenkindie 8 + 2 a. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard 15 + 2 b. Lord Randal (A) 22 + 3 a. Gil Morrice 28 + 3 b. Child Noryce 40 + 4. Clerk Saunders 45 + 5 a. Sweet Willie and Lady Margerie 53 + 5 b. Willie and Lady Maisry 57 + 6. The Clerk's Twa Sons o' Owsenford 63 + 7. Childe Vyet 72 + 8. Lady Maisry 78 + 9 a. Fair Janet 86 + 9 b. Sweet Willie 93 + 10 a. Fair Annie of Lochroyan 98 + 10 b. The Lass of Lochroyan 106 + 11. The Douglas Tragedy 114 + 12 a. Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor 121 + 12 b. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 125 + 12 c. Sweet Willie and Fair Annie 131 + 12 d. Fair Margaret and Sweet William 140 + 13 a. Sweet William's Ghost 145 + 13 b. William and Marjorie 149 + 13 c. Sweet William and May Margaret 152 + 14 a. Bonny Barbara Allan 155 + 14 b. Barbara Allen's Cruelty 158 + 15. Lord Lovel 162 + 16 a. Lord Salton and Auchanachie, [Maidment] 165 + 16 b. Lord Salton and Auchanachie, [Buchan] 167 + 17 a. Willie and May Margaret 171 + 17 b. The Drowned Lovers 175 + 18. Willie's Drowned in Gamery 181 + 19. Annan Water 186 + 20 a. Andrew Lammie 190 + 20 b. The Trumpeter of Fyvie 201 + 21. Fair Helen of Kirconnel 207 + 22. The Lowlands of Holland 213 + + + BOOK III. + + 1 a. The Twa Brothers 219 + 1 b. Edward, Edward 225 + 1 c. Son Davie, Son Davie 228 + 2 a. The Cruel Sister 231 + 2 b. The Twa Sisters 238 + 3 a. Lord Donald 244 + 3 b. Lord Randal (B) 248 + 4 a. The Cruel Brother, [Jamieson] 251 + 4 b. The Cruel Brother, [Herd] 257 + 5 a. Lady Anne 262 + 5 b. Fine Flowers in the Valley 265 + 5 c. The Cruel Mother, [Motherwell] 267 + 5 d. The Cruel Mother, [Kinloch] 269 + 6. May Colvin 271 + 7 a. Babylon 277 + 7 b. Duke of Perth's Three Daughters 281 + 8. Jellon Grame 285 + 9. Young Johnstone 291 + 10. Young Benjie 298 + + + APPENDIX. + + Lord Barnaby 307 + Child Maurice 313 + Clerk Saunders 318 + Lord Wa'yates and Auld Ingram 326 + Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry 332 + Lady Marjorie 338 + Leesome Brand 342 + The Youth of Rosengord 347 + The Blood-Stained Son 350 + The Twa Brothers 353 + The Miller and the King's Daughter 357 + The Bonny Bows o' London 360 + The Croodlin Doo 363 + The Snake-Cook 364 + The Child's Last Will 366 + The Three Knights 368 + The Cruel Mother 372 + The Minister's Dochter o' Newarke 376 + Bondsey and Maisry 379 + Ladye Diamond 382 + The West-Country Damosel's Complaint 384 + The Brave Earl Brand and the King of England's Daughter 388 + La Vendicatrice--supplement to May Colvin 392 + + + GLOSSARY 395 + + + + +BOOK II. + + + + +GLASGERION. + + +The two following ballads have the same subject, and perhaps had a +common original. The "Briton GLASKYRION" is honourably mentioned as +a harper by Chaucer, in company with Chiron, Orion, and Orpheus, +(_House of Fame_, B. iii. v. 118,) and with the last he is also +associated, as Mr. Finlay has pointed out, by Bishop Douglas, in the +_Palice of Honour_. "The Scottish writers," says Jamieson, "adapting +the name to their own meridian, call him GLENKINDY, GLENSKEENIE, +&c." + +_Glasgerion_ is reprinted from Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 83. + + Glasgerion was a kings owne sonne, + And a harper he was goode; + He harped in the kings chambere, + Where cuppe and caudle stoode, + And soe did hee in the queens chambere, 5 + Till ladies waxed wood, + + And then bespake the kinges daughter, + And these wordes thus shee sayd:-- + + "Strike on, strike on, Glasgerion, + Of thy striking doe not blinne; 10 + Theres never a stroke comes oer thy harpe, + But it glads my hart withinne." + + "Faire might him fall,[L13] ladye," quoth hee, + "Who taught you nowe to speake! + I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yeere, 15 + My harte I neere durst breake." + + "But come to my bower, my Glasgerion, + When all men are att rest: + As I am a ladie true of my promise, + Thou shalt bee a welcome guest." 20 + + Home then came Glasgerion, + A glad man, lord! was hee: + "And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy, + Come hither unto mee. + + "For the kinges daughter of Normandye 25 + Hath granted mee my boone; + And att her chambere must I bee + Beffore the cocke have crowen." + + "O master, master," then quoth hee, + "Lay your head downe on this stone; 30 + For I will waken you, master deere, + Afore it be time to gone." + + But up then rose that lither ladd, + And hose and shoone did on; + A coller he cast upon his necke, 35 + Hee seemed a gentleman. + + And when he came to the ladyes chamber, + He thrild upon a pinn: + The lady was true of her promise, + And rose and lett him inn. 40 + + He did not take the lady gaye + To boulster nor to bed: + [Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille, + A single word he sed.] + + He did not kisse that ladyes mouthe, 45 + Nor when he came, nor yode: + And sore that ladye did mistrust, + He was of some churls bloud. + + But home then came that lither ladd, + And did off his hose and shoone; 50 + And cast the coller from off his necke: + He was but a churlès sonne. + + "Awake, awake, my deere master, + The cock hath well-nigh crowen; + Awake, awake, my master deere, 55 + I hold it time to be gone. + + "For I have saddled your horsse, master, + Well bridled I have your steede, + And I have served you a good breakfast, + For thereof ye have need." 60 + + Up then rose good Glasgerion, + And did on hose and shoone, + And cast a coller about his necke: + For he was a kinge his sonne. + + And when he came to the ladyes chambere, 65 + He thrilled upon the pinne; + The ladye was more than true of promise, + And rose and let him inn. + + "O whether have you left with me + Your bracelet or your glove? 70 + Or are you returned back againe + To know more of my love?" + + Glasgerion swore a full great othe, + By oake, and ashe, and thorne; + "Ladye, I was never in your chambere, 75 + Sith the time that I was borne." + + "O then it was your lither[L77] foot-page, + He hath beguiled mee:" + Then shee pulled forth a little pen-knìffe, + That hanged by her knee. 80 + + Sayes, "there shall never noe churlès blood + Within my bodye spring: + No churlès blood shall e'er defile + The daughter of a kinge." + + Home then went Glasgerion, 85 + And woe, good lord! was hee: + Sayes, "come thou hither, Jacke my boy, + Come hither unto mee. + + "If I had killed a man to-night, + Jack, I would tell it thee: 90 + But if I have not killed a man to-night, + Jacke, thou hast killed three." + + And he puld out his bright browne sword, + And dryed it on his sleeve, + And he smote off that lither ladds head, 95 + Who did his ladye grieve. + + He sett the swords poynt till his brest, + The pummil untill a stone: + Throw the falsenesse of that lither ladd, + These three lives werne all gone. 100 + +13, him fall. + +77, MS. litle. + + + + +GLENKINDIE. + + From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 91. The copy in the + _Thistle of Scotland_, p. 31, is the same. + + + Glenkindie was ance a harper gude, + He harped to the king; + And Glenkindie was ance the best harper + That ever harp'd on a string. + + He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water,[L5] 5 + Or water out o' a stane; + Or milk out o' a maiden's breast, + That bairn had never nane. + + He's taen his harp intil his hand, + He harpit and he sang; 10 + And ay as he harpit to the king, + To haud him unthought lang. + + "I'll gie you a robe, Glenkindie, + A robe o' the royal pa', + Gin ye will harp i' the winter's night 15 + Afore my nobles a'." + + And the king but and his nobles a'[L17] + Sat birling at the wine; + And he wad hae but his ae dochter, + To wait on them at dine. 20 + + He's taen his harp intill his hand, + He's harpit them a' asleep, + Except it was the young countess, + That love did waukin keep. + + And first he has harpit a grave tune,[L25] 25 + And syne he has harpit a gay; + And mony a sich atween hands + I wat the lady gae. + + Says, "Whan day is dawen, and cocks hae crawen, + And wappit their wings sae wide, 30 + It's ye may come to my bower door, + And streek you by my side. + + "But look that ye tell na Gib your man, + For naething that ye dee; + For, an ye tell him, Gib your man, 35 + He'll beguile baith you and me." + + He's taen his harp intill his hand; + He harpit and he sang; + And he is hame to Gib his man, + As fast as he could gang. 40 + + "O mith I tell you, Gib, my man, + Gin I a man had slain?" + "O that ye micht, my gude master, + Altho' ye had slain ten." + + "Then tak ye tent now, Gib, my man, 45 + My bidden for to dee; + And, but an ye wauken me in time, + Ye sall be hangit hie. + + "Whan day has dawen, and cocks hae crawen, + And wappit their wings sae wide, 50 + I'm bidden gang till yon lady's bower, + And streek me by her side." + + "Gae hame to your bed, my good master; + Ye've waukit, I fear, o'er lang; + For I'll wauken you in as good time, 55 + As ony cock i' the land." + + He's taen his harp intill his hand, + He harpit and he sang, + Until he harpit his master asleep, + Syne fast awa did gang. 60 + + And he is till that lady's bower, + As fast as he could rin; + When he cam till that lady's bower, + He chappit at the chin.[L64] + + "O wha is this," says that lady, 65 + "That opens nae and comes in?" + "It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love, + O open and lat me in!" + + She kent he was nae gentle knicht + That she had latten in; 70 + For neither whan he gaed nor cam, + Kist he her cheek or chin. + + He neither kist her whan he cam, + Nor clappit her when he gaed; + And in and at her bower window, 75 + The moon shone like the gleed. + + "O, ragged is your hose, Glenkindie, + And riven is your sheen, + And reavel'd is your yellow hair + That I saw late yestreen." 80 + + "The stockings they are Gib my man's, + They came first to my hand; + And this is Gib my man's shoon; + At my bed feet they stand. + I've reavell'd a' my yellow hair 85 + Coming against the wind." + + He's taen the harp intill his hand, + He harpit and he sang, + Until he cam to his master, + As fast as he could gang. 90 + + "Won up, won up, my good master; + I fear ye sleep o'er lang; + There's nae a cock in a' the land + But has wappit his wings and crawn." + + Glenkindie's tane his harp in hand, 95 + He harpit and he sang, + And he has reach'd the lady's bower, + Afore that e'er he blan. + + When he cam to the lady's bower, + He chappit at the chin; 100 + "O, wha is that at my bower door, + That opens na and comes in?" + "It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love, + And in I canna win." + + * * * * * + + "Forbid it, forbid it," says that lady, 105 + "That ever sic shame betide; + That I should first be a wild loon's lass, + And than a young knight's bride." + + There was nae pity for that lady, + For she lay cald and dead; 110 + But a' was for him, Glenkindie, + In bower he must go mad. + + He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water; + The water out o' a stane; + The milk out o' a maiden's breast, 115 + That bairn had never nane. + + He's taen his harp intill his hand; + Sae sweetly as it rang, + And wae and weary was to hear + Glenkindie's dowie sang.[L120] 120 + + But cald and dead was that lady, + Nor heeds for a' his maen; + An he wad harpit till domisday, + She'll never speak again. + + He's taen his harp intill his hand; 125 + He harpit and he sang; + And he is hame to Gib his man + As fast as he could gang. + + "Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man, + Till I pay you your fee; 130 + Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man; + Weel payit sall ye be!" + + And he has taen him, Gib, his man, + And he has hang'd him hie; + And he's hangit him o'er his ain yate, 135 + As high as high could be. + +5-8, These feats are all but equalled by the musician in the Swedish +and Danish _Harpans Kraft_. + + "He harped the bark from every tree, + And he harped the young from folk and from fee. + + "He harped the hind from the wild-wood home, + He harped the bairn from its mother's womb." + ARWIDSSON, No. 149. + + "Villemand takes his harp in his hand, + He goes down by the water to stand. + + "He struck the harp with his hand, + And the fish leapt out upon the strand." + GRUNDTVIG, No. 40. + +17-20. This stanza is found in the opening of _Brown Robin_, which +commences thus:-- + + "The king but and his nobles a' + Sat birling at the wine, [_bis_] + He would hae nane but his ae daughter + To wait on them at dine. + + "She served them but, she served them ben, + Intill a gown o' green; + But her e'e was ay on Brown Robin, + That stood low under the rain," &c. J. + + +25-28. The following stanza occurs in one of the editor's copies of +_The Gay Gosshawk_:-- + + "O first he sang a merry song, + And then he sang a grave; + And then he pecked his feathers gray, + To her the letter gave." J. + +64, at the chin. Sic. + +120. This stanza has been altered, to introduce a little variety, +and prevent the monotonous tiresomeness of repetition. J. + + + + +THE OLD BALLAD OF LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND THE LADY BARNARD. + + +The popularity of this ancient ballad is evinced by its being +frequently quoted in old plays. In Beaumont and Fletcher's _Knight +of the Burning Pestle_, (produced in 1611,) the fourteenth stanza is +cited, thus: + + "And some they whistled and some they sung, + _Hey, down, down!_ + And some did loudly say, + Ever as the lord Barnet's horn blew, + Away, Musgrave, away." + _Act V. Scene 3._ + + +The oldest known copy of this piece is found in _Wit Restor'd_, +(1658,) p. 174, and from the reprint of that publication we have +taken it, (p. 293.) Dryden seems to have adopted it from the same +source into his _Miscellanies_, and Ritson has inserted Dryden's +version in _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, ii. 116. Percy's copy +(_Reliques_, iii. 106,) was inferior to the one here used, and was +besides somewhat altered by the editor. + +A Scottish version, furnished by Jamieson, is given in the Appendix +to this volume, and another, extending to forty-eight stanzas, in +_Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, Percy Society, +vol. xvii. p. 21. + +Similar incidents, with a verbal coincidence in one stanza, occur in +the ballad immediately succeeding the present. + + As it fell one holy-day, _hay downe_, + As manybe in the yeare, + When young men and maids together did goe, + Their mattins and masse to heare, + + Little Musgrave came to the church dore, 5 + The preist was at private masse; + But he had more minde of the faire women, + Then he had of our ladys[L8] grace. + + The one of them was clad in green, + Another was clad in pall;[L10] 10 + And then came in my lord Barnards[L11] wife, + The fairest amonst them all. + + She cast an eye on little Musgrave, + As bright as the summer sun, + And then bethought this little Musgrave, 15 + "This ladys heart have I woonn." + + Quoth she, "I have loved thee, little Musgrave, + Full long and many a day:" + "So have I loved you, fair lady, + Yet never word durst I say." 20 + + "I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery, + Full daintyly it is deight;[L22] + If thou wilt wend thither, thou little Musgrave, + Thou's lig in mine armes all night." + + Quoth he, "I thank yee, faire lady, 25 + This kindnes thou showest to me; + But whether it be to my weal or woe, + This night I will lig[L28] with thee." + + All that heard[L29] a little tinny page, + By his ladyes coach as he ran: 30 + [Quoth he,] "allthough I am my ladyes foot-page, + Yet I am lord Barnards man. + + "My lord Barnard shall knowe of this, + Whether I sink or swimm:"[L34] + And ever where the bridges were broake, 35 + He laid him downe to swimme. + + "Asleepe, awake![L37] thou lord Barnard, + As thou art a man of life; + For little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery, + Abed with thy own wedded wife." 40 + + "If this be true, thou little tinny page, + This thing thou tellest to mee, + Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery + I freely will give to thee. + + "But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page, 45 + This thing thou tellest to me, + On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery + There hanged shalt thou be." + + He called up his merry men all:-- + "Come saddle me my steed; 50 + This night must I to Buckellsfordbery, + For I never had greater need." + + And some of them whistl'd, and some of them sung, + And some these words did say, + Ever[L55] when my lord Barnards horn blew, 55 + "Away, Musgrave, away!" + + "Methinks I hear the thresel-cock, + Methinks I hear the jaye; + Methinks I hear my Lord Barnard,-- + And I would I were away." 60 + + "Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrave, + And huggell me from the cold; + Tis nothing but a shephards boy, + A driving his sheep to the fold. + + "Is not thy hawke upon a perch? 65 + Thy steed eats oats and hay, + And thou [a] fair lady in thine armes,-- + And wouldst thou bee away?" + + With that my lord Barnard came to the dore, + And lit a stone upon; 70 + He plucked out three silver keys, + And he open'd the dores each one. + + He lifted up the coverlett, + He lifted up the sheet; + "How now, how now, thou little Musgrave, 75 + Doest thou find my lady sweet?" + + "I find her sweet," quoth little Musgrave, + "The more 'tis to my paine; + I would gladly give three hundred pounds + That I were on yonder plaine." 80 + + "Arise, arise, thou littell Musgrave, + And put thy clothés on; + It shal ne'er be said in my country, + I have killed a naked man. + + "I have two swords in one scabberd, 85 + Full deere they cost my purse; + And thou shalt have the best of them, + And I will have the worse." + + The first stroke that little Musgrave stroke, + He hurt Lord Barnard sore; 90 + The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke, + Little Musgrave ne're struck more. + + With that bespake this faire lady, + In bed whereas she lay; + "Although thou'rt dead, thou little Musgrave, 95 + Yet I for thee will pray; + + "And wish well to thy soule will I, + So long as I have life; + So will I not for thee, Barnard, + Although I am thy wedded wife." 100 + + He cut her paps from off her brest, + (Great pity it was to see,) + That some drops of this ladies heart's blood + Ran trickling downe her knee. + + "Woe worth you, woe worth [you], my mery men all, 105 + You were ne're borne for my good; + Why did you not offer to stay my hand, + When ye saw[L108] me wax so wood! + + "For I have slaine the bravest sir knight + That ever rode on steed; 110 + So have I done the fairest lady + That ever did womans deed. + + "A grave, a grave," Lord Barnard cryd, + "To put these lovers in; + But lay my lady on [the] upper hand, 115 + For she came of the better kin." + +8, lady. + +10, pale. + +11, Bernards. + +22, geight. + +28, wed. + +29, With that he heard: tyne. + +34, sinn. + +37, or wake. + +55, And ever. + +108, see. + + + + +LORD RANDAL (A). + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 162. + + +"The story of this ballad very much resembles that of _Little +Musgrave and Lord Barnard_. The common title is, _The Bonny Birdy_. +The first stanza is sung thus:-- + + 'There was a knight, on a summer's night, + Was riding o'er the lee, _diddle_; + And there he saw a bonny birdy + Was singing on a tree, _diddle_: + O wow for day, _diddle_! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay.' + +In the text, the burden of _diddle_ has been omitted; and the name +of Lord Randal introduced, for the sake of distinction, and to +prevent the ambiguity arising from 'the knight', which is equally +applicable to both." + +The lines supplied by Jamieson have been omitted. + +Allan Cunningham's "improved" version of the _Bonny Birdy_ may be +seen in his _Songs of Scotland_, ii. 130. + + Lord Randal wight, on a summer's night, + Was riding o'er the lee, + And there he saw a bonny birdie + Was singin' on a tree: + + "O wow for day! 5 + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay! + + "Mak haste, mak haste, ye wicht baron; + What keeps ye here sae late? 10 + Gin ye kent what was doing at hame, + I trow ye wad look blate. + + "And O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day. + Gin it were day, and ye were away; 15 + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "O what needs I toil day and night, + My fair body to spill, + When I ha'e knichts at my command, + And ladies at my will?" 20 + + "O weel is he, ye wight baron, + Has the blear drawn o'er his e'e; + But your lady has a knight in her arms twa, + That she lo'es far better nor thee. + + "And O wow for day! 25 + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and ye were away; + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "Ye lie, ye lie, ye bonny birdie; + How you lie upon my sweet; 30 + I will tak out my bonny bow, + And in troth I will you sheet." + + "But afore ye ha'e your bow weel bent, + And a' your arrows yare, + I will flee till anither tree, 35 + Whare I can better fare. + + "And O wow for day + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away; + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" 40 + + "O whare was ye gotten, and where was ye clecked, + My bonny birdie, tell me?" + "O, I was clecked in good green wood, + Intill a holly tree; + A baron sae bald my nest herried, 45 + And ga'e me to his ladie. + + "Wi' good white bread, and farrow-cow milk, + He bade her feed me aft; + And ga'e her a little wee summer-dale wandie, + To ding me sindle and saft. 50 + + "Wi' good white bread, and farrow-cow milk, + I wat she fed me nought; + But wi' a little wee summer-dale wandie, + She dang me sair and oft:-- + Gin she had done as ye her bade, 55 + I wadna tell how she has wrought. + + "And O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and ye were away; + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay." 60 + + Lord Randal rade, and the birdie flew, + The live-lang summer's night, + Till he cam till his lady's bower-door, + Then even down he did light. + The birdie sat on the crap o' a tree, 65 + And I wat it sang fu' dight: + + "O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away; + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" 70 + + * * * * * * * + + "O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and ye were away; + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "Now Christ assoile me o' my sin," 75 + The fause knight he could say; + "It's nae for nought that the hawk whistles;[L77] + And I wish that I were away! + + "And O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! 80 + Gin it were day, and I were away; + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "What needs ye lang for day, + And wish that ye were away? + Is na your hounds in my cellar 85 + Eating white meal and gray?" + + "Yet, O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" 90 + + "Is na your horse in my stable, + Eating good corn and hay? + Is na your hawk on my perch tree, + Just perching for his prey? + And isna yoursel in my arms twa; 95 + Then how can ye lang for day?" + + "Yet, O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay. 100 + + "Yet, O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + For he that's in bed wi' anither man's wife, + Has never lang time to stay." + + * * * * * * * + + Then out Lord Randal drew his brand, 105 + And straiked it o'er a strae; + And through and through the fause knight's waste + He gar'd cald iron gae; + And I hope ilk ane sall sae be serv'd, + That treats an honest man sae! 110 + +77, This is a proverbial saying in Scotland. J. + + + + +GIL MORRICE. + + +"Of the many ancient ballads which have been preserved by tradition +among the peasantry of Scotland, none has excited more interest in +the world of letters than the beautiful and pathetic tale of _Gil +Morice_; and this, no less on account of its own intrinsic merits as +a piece of exquisite poetry, than of its having furnished the plot +of the justly celebrated tragedy of _Douglas_. It has likewise +supplied Mr. Langhorne with the principal materials from which he +has woven the fabric of his sweet, though prolix poem of _Owen of +Carron_. Perhaps the list could be easily increased of those who +have drawn their inspiration from this affecting strain of Olden +Minstrelsy. + +"If any reliance is to be placed on the traditions of that part of +the country where the scene of the ballad is laid, we will be +enforced to believe that it is founded on facts which occurred at +some remote period of Scottish History. The 'grene wode' of the +ballad was the ancient forest of Dundaff, in Stirlingshire, and Lord +Barnard's Castle is said to have occupied a precipitous cliff, +overhanging the water of Carron, on the lands of Halbertshire. A +small burn, which joins the Carron about five miles above these +lands, is named the Earlsburn, and the hill near the source of that +stream is called the Earlshill, both deriving their appellations, +according to the unvarying traditions of the country, from the +unfortunate Erle's son who is the hero of the ballad. He, also, +according to the same respectable authority, was 'beautiful +exceedingly', and especially remarkable for the extreme length and +loveliness of his yellow hair, which shrouded him as it were a +golden mist. To these floating traditions we are, probably, indebted +for the attempts which have been made to improve and embellish the +ballad, by the introduction of various new stanzas since its first +appearance in a printed form. + +"In Percy's _Reliques_, it is mentioned that it had run through two +editions in Scotland, the second of which appeared at Glasgow in +1755, 8vo.; and that to both there was prefixed an advertisement, +setting forth that the preservation of the poem was owing 'to a +lady, who favoured the printers with a copy, as it was carefully +collected from the mouths of old women and nurses', and requesting +that 'any reader, who could render it more correct or complete, +would oblige the public with such improvements'. This was holding +out too tempting a bait not to be greedily snapped at by some of +those 'Ingenious Hands' who have corrupted the purity of legendary +song in Scotland by manifest forgeries and gross impositions. +Accordingly, sixteen additional verses soon appeared in manuscript, +which the Editor of the _Reliques_ has inserted in their proper +places, though he rightly views them in no better light than that of +an ingenious interpolation. Indeed, the whole ballad of _Gil +Morice_, as the writer of the present notice has been politely +informed by the learned and elegant Editor of the _Border +Minstrelsy_, underwent a total revisal about the period when the +tragedy of _Douglas_ was in the zenith of its popularity, and this +improved copy, it seems, embraced the ingenious interpolation above +referred to. Independent altogether of this positive information, +any one, familiar with the state in which traditionary poetry has +been transmitted to the present times, can be at no loss to detect +many more 'ingenious interpolations', as well as paraphrastic +additions, in the ballad as now printed. But, though it has been +grievously corrupted in this way, the most scrupulous inquirer into +the authenticity of ancient song can have no hesitation in admitting +that many of its verses, even as they now stand, are purely +traditionary, and fair, and genuine parcels of antiquity, unalloyed +with any base admixture of modern invention, and in nowise altered, +save in those changes of language to which all oral poetry is +unavoidably subjected, in its progress from one age to another." +MOTHERWELL. + +We have given _Gil Morrice_ as it stands in the _Reliques_, (iii. +132,) degrading to the margin those stanzas which are undoubtedly +spurious, and we have added an ancient traditionary version, +obtained by Motherwell, which, if it appear short and crude, is at +least comparatively incorrupt. _Chield Morice_, taken down from +recitation, and printed in Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, (p. 269,) +nearly resembles _Gil Morrice_, as here exhibited. We have also +inserted in the Appendix _Childe Maurice_, "the very old imperfect +copy," mentioned in the _Reliques_, and first published from the +Percy MS. by Jamieson. + +The sets of _Gil Morrice_ in the collections of Herd, Pinkerton, +Ritson, &c., are all taken from Percy. + + Gil Morrice was an erles son, + His name it waxed wide: + It was nae for his great riches, + Nor zet his mickle pride; + Bot it was for a lady gay[L5] 5 + That liv'd on Carron side. + + "Quhair sall I get a bonny boy, + That will win hose and shoen; + That will gae to Lord Barnard's ha', + And bid his lady cum? 10 + + "And ze maun rin my errand, Willie, + And ze may rin wi' pride; + Quhen other boys gae on their foot, + On horseback ze sall ride." + + "O no! O no! my master dear! 15 + I dare nae for my life; + I'll no gae to the bauld barons, + For to triest furth his wife." + + "My bird Willie, my boy Willie, + My dear Willie," he sayd: 20 + "How can ze strive against the stream? + For I sall be obeyd." + + "Bot, O my master dear!" he cry'd, + "In grene wod ze're zour lain; + Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede, 25 + For fear ze should be tain." + + "Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha', + Bid hir cum here wi' speid: + If ze refuse my heigh command, + I'll gar zour body bleid. 30 + + "Gae bid hir take this gay mantel, + 'T is a' gowd bot the hem; + Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode, + And bring nane hot hir lain: + + "And there it is, a silken sarke, 35 + Hir ain hand sewd the sleive; + And bid hir cum to Gill Morice, + Speir nae bauld barons leave." + + "Yes, I will gae zour black errand, + Though it be to zour cost; 40 + Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd, + In it ze sall find frost. + + "The baron he is a man of might, + He neir could bide to taunt; + As ze will see, before it's nicht, 45 + How sma' ze hae to vaunt. + + "And sen I maun zour errand rin + Sae sair against my will, + I'se mak a vow and keip it trow, + It sall be done for ill." 50 + + And quhen he came to broken brigue,[L51] + He bent his bow and swam; + And quhen he came to grass growing, + Set down his feet and ran. + + And quhen he came to Barnard's ha', 55 + Would neither chap nor ca'; + Bot set his bent bow to his breist, + And lichtly lap the wa'. + + He wauld nae tell the man his errand, + Though he stude at the gait; 60 + Bot straiht into the ha' he cam, + Quhair they were set at meit. + + "Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame! + My message winna waite; + Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod, 65 + Before that it be late. + + "Ze're bidden tak this gay mantel, + 'Tis a' gowd bot the hem: + Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode, + Ev'n by your sel alane. 70 + + "And there it is, a silken sarke, + Your ain hand sewd the sleive: + Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice; + Speir nae bauld barons leave." + + The lady stamped wi' hir foot, 75 + And winked wi' hir ee; + But a' that she could say or do, + Forbidden he wad nae bee. + + "It's surely to my bow'r-woman; + It neir could be to me." 80 + "I brocht it to Lord Barnard's lady; + I trow that ze be she." + + Then up and spack the wylie nurse, + (The bairn upon hir knee): + "If it be cum frae Gill Morice, 85 + It's deir welcum to mee." + + "Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse, + Sae loud I heird ze lee; + I brocht it to Lord Barnard's lady; + I trow ze be nae shee." 90 + + Then up and spack the bauld baron, + An angry man was hee; + He's tain the table wi' his foot, + Sae has he wi' his knee, + Till siller cup and ezer[L95] dish 95 + In flinders he gard flee. + + "Gae bring a robe of zour cliding, + That hings upon the pin; + And I'll gae to the gude grene wode, + And speik wi' zour lemman." 100 + + "O bide at hame, now, Lord Barnard, + I warde ze bide at hame; + Neir wyte a man for violence, + That neir wate ze wi' nane." + + Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode, 105 + He whistled and he sang: + "O what mean a' the folk coming? + My mother tarries lang." + + The baron came to the grene wode,[L109] + Wi' mickle dule and care; 110 + And there he first spied Gill Morice + Kameing his zellow hair. + + "Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morice, + My lady loed thee weel; + The fairest part of my bodie 115 + Is blacker than thy heel. + + "Zet neir the less now, Gill Morice, + For a' thy great beautie, + Ze's rew the day ze eir was born; + That head sall gae wi' me." 120 + + Now he has drawn his trusty brand, + And slait it[L122] on the strae; + And thro' Gill Morice' fair body + He's gar cauld iron gae. + + And he has tain Gill Morice' head,[L125] 125 + And set it on a speir: + The meanest man in a' his train + Has gotten that head to bear. + + And he has tain Gill Morice up, + Laid him across his steid, 130 + And brocht him to his painted bowr, + And laid him on a bed. + + The lady sat on castil wa', + Beheld baith dale and doun; + And there she saw Gill Morice' head 135 + Cum trailing to the toun. + + "Far better I loe that bluidy head, + Bot and that zellow hair, + Than Lord Barnard, and a' his lands, + As they lig here and thair." 140 + + And she has tain her Gill Morice, + And kissd baith mouth and chin: + "I was once as fow of Gill Morice, + As the hip is o' the stean. + + "I got ze in my father's house, 145 + Wi' mickle sin and shame; + I brocht thee up in gude green wode, + Under the heavy rain. + + "Oft have I by thy cradle sitten, + And fondly seen thee sleip; 150 + Bot now I gae about thy grave, + The saut tears for to weip." + + And syne she kissd[L153] his bluidy cheik, + And syne his bluidy chin: + "O better I loe my Gill Morice 155 + Than a' my kith and kin!" + + "Away, away, ze il woman,[L157] + And an ill deith mait ze dee: + Gin I had ken'd he'd bin zour son, + He'd neir bin slain for mee." 160 + +5. The stall copies of the ballad complete the stanza thus: + + _His face was fair, lang was his hair, + In the wild woods he staid_; + But his fame was for a fair lady + That lived on Carronside. + +Which is no injudicious interpolation, inasmuch as it is founded +upon the traditions current among the vulgar, regarding Gil Morice's +comely face and long yellow hair. MOTHERWELL. + +51-58. A familiar commonplace in ballad poetry. See _Childe Vyet_, +_Lady Maisry_, _Lord Barnaby_, &c. + +95, mazer. + +109 + + His hair was like the threeds of gold + Drawne frae Minerva's loome; + His lipps like roses drapping dew; + His breath was a' perfume. + + His brow was like the mountain snae + Gilt by the morning beam; + His cheeks like living roses glow; + His een like azure stream. + + The boy was clad in robes of grene, + Sweete as the infant spring; + And like the mavis on the bush, + He gart the vallies ring. + +122, slaited. + +125 + + That sweetly wavd around his face, + That face beyond compare; + He sang sae sweet, it might dispel + A' rage but fell dispair. + +153. Stall copy, And _first_ she kissed. + +157 + + "Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard! + Obraid me not for shame! + Wi' that saim speir, O pierce my heart! + And put me out o' pain. + + "Since nothing bot Gill Morice' head + Thy jelous rage could quell, + Let that saim hand now tak hir life + That neir to thee did ill. + + "To me nae after days nor nichts + Will eir be saft or kind; + I'll fill the air with heavy sighs, + And greet till I am blind." + + "Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt, + Seek not zour death frae me; + I rather lourd it had been my sel + Than eather him or thee. + + "With waefo wae I hear zour plaint; + Sair, sair I rew the deid, + That eir this cursed hand of mine + Had gard his body bleid. + + "Dry up zour tears, my winsome dame, + Ze neir can heal the wound; + Ze see his head upon the speir, + His heart's blude on the ground. + + "I curse the hand that did the deid, + The heart that thocht the ill; + The feet that bore me wi' sik speid, + The comely zouth to kill. + + "I'll ay lament for Gill Morice, + As gin he were mine ain; + I'll neir forget the dreiry day + On which the zouth was slain." + + + + +CHILD NORYCE. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 282. + + +"By testimony of a most unexceptionable description,--but which it +would be tedious here to detail,--the Editor can distinctly trace +this ballad as existing in its present shape at least a century ago, +which carries it decidedly beyond the date of the first printed copy +of _Gil Morice_; and this with a poem which has been preserved but +by oral tradition, is no mean _positive_ antiquity." + +In the Introduction to his collection, Motherwell mentions his +having found a more complete copy of this ballad under the title of +_Babe Nourice_. + + Child Noryce is a clever young man, + He wavers wi' the wind; + His horse was silver shod before, + With the beaten gold behind. + + He called to his little man John, 5 + Saying, "You don't see what I see; + For O yonder I see the very first woman + That ever loved me. + + "Here is a glove, a glove," he said, + "Lined with the silver gris; 10 + You may tell her to come to the merry green wood, + To speak to Child Nory. + + "Here is a ring, a ring," he says, + "It's all gold but the stane; + You may tell her to come to the merry green wood, 15 + And ask the leave o' nane." + + "So well do I love your errand, my master, + But far better do I love my life; + O would ye have me go to Lord Barnard's castel, + To betray away his wife?" 20 + + "O don't I give you meat," he says, + "And don't I pay you fee? + How dare you stop my errand?" he says; + "My orders you must obey." + + O when he came to Lord Barnard's castel, 25 + He tinkled at the ring; + Who was as ready as Lord Barnard[L27] himself + To let this little boy in? + + "Here is a glove, a glove," he says, + "Lined with the silver gris; 30 + You are bidden to come to the merry green wood, + To speak to Child Nory. + + "Here is a ring, a ring," he says, + "It's all gold but the stane: + You are bidden to come to the merry green wood, 35 + And ask the leave o' nane." + + Lord Barnard he was standing by, + And an angry man was he: + "O little did I think there was a lord in this world + My lady loved but me!" 40 + + O he dressed himself in the Holland smocks, + And garments that was gay; + And he is away to the merry green wood, + To speak to Child Nory. + + Child Noryce sits on yonder tree, 45 + He whistles and he sings: + "O wae be to me," says Child Noryce, + "Yonder my mother comes!" + + Child Noryce he came off the tree, + His mother to take off the horse: 50 + "Och alace, alace," says Child Noryce, + "My mother was ne'er so gross." + + Lord Barnard he had a little small sword, + That hung low down by his knee; + He cut the head off Child Noryce, 55 + And put the body on a tree. + + And when he came to his castel, + And to his lady's hall, + He threw the head into her lap, + Saying, "Lady, there is a ball!" 60 + + She turned up the bloody head, + She kissed it frae cheek to chin: + "Far better do I love this bloody head + Than all my royal kin. + + "When I was in my father's castell, 65 + In my virginitie, + There came a lord into the North, + Gat Child Noryce with me." + + "O wae be to thee, Lady Margaret," he said, + "And an ill death may you die; 70 + For if you had told me he was your son, + He had ne'er been slain by me." + +27. This unquestionably should be Lady Barnard, instead of her +lord. See third stanza under. M. + + + + +CLERK SAUNDERS. + + +From the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, (iii. 175,) where it +was first published. It was "taken from Mr. Herd's MSS., with +several corrections from a shorter and more imperfect copy in the +same volume, and one or two conjectural emendations in the +arrangement of the stanzas." + +That that part of the ballad which follows the death of the lovers +is an independent story, is obvious both from internal evidence, and +from the separate existence of those concluding stanzas in a variety +of forms: as, _Sweet William's Ghost_, (_Tea-Table Miscellany_, ii. +142,) _Sweet William and May Margaret_, (Kinloch, p. 241,) _William +and Marjorie_, (Motherwell, p. 186.) Of this second part, Motherwell +observes, that it is often made the tail-piece to other ballads +where a deceased lover appears to his mistress. The two were, +however, combined by Sir Walter Scott, and the present Editor has +contented himself with indicating distinctly the close of the proper +story. + +An inferior copy of _Clerk Saunders_, published by Jamieson, is +inserted in the Appendix, for the sake of a few valuable stanzas. +It resembles the Swedish ballad of _The Cruel Brother_, (_Svenska +Folk-Visor_, iii. 107,) which, however, is much shorter. The edition +of Buchan, (i. 160,) is entirely worthless. A North-Country version +of the First Part is given by Kinloch, _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, +233. + + +PART FIRST. + + Clerk Saunders and may Margaret, + Walked ower yon garden green; + And sad and heavy was the love + That fell thir twa between. + + "A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said, 5 + "A bed for you and me!"-- + "Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret, + "Till anes we married be; + + "For in may come my seven bauld brothers, + Wi' torches burning bright; 10 + They'll say--'We hae but ae sister, + And behold she's wi' a knight!'"-- + + "Then take the sword from my scabbard, + And slowly lift the pin; + And you may swear, and safe your aith, 15 + Ye never let Clerk Saunders in. + + "And take a napkin in your hand, + And tie up baith your bonny een; + And you may swear, and safe your aith, + Ye saw me na since late yestreen."[L20] 20 + + It was about the midnight hour, + When they asleep were laid, + When in and came her seven brothers, + Wi' torches burning red. + + When in and came her seven brothers, 25 + Wi' torches burning bright; + They said, "We hae but ae sister, + And behold her lying with a knight!" + + Then out and spake the first o' them, + "I bear the sword shall gar him die!" 30 + And out and spake the second o' them, + "His father has nae mair than he!" + + And out and spake the third o' them, + "I wot that they are lovers dear!" + And out and spake the fourth o' them, 35 + "They hae been in love this mony a year!" + + Then out and spake the fifth o' them, + "It were great sin true love to twain!" + And out and spake the sixth of them, + "It were shame to slay a sleeping man!" 40 + + Then up and gat the seventh o' them, + And never a word spake he; + But he has striped his bright brown brand + Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye. + + Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turn'd 45 + Into his arms as asleep she lay; + And sad and silent was the night + That was atween thir twae. + + And they lay still and sleeped sound, + Until the day began to daw; 50 + And kindly to him she did say, + "It is time, true love, you were awa." + + But he lay still, and sleeped sound, + Albeit the sun began to sheen; + She looked atween her and the wa', 55 + And dull and drowsie were his een. + + Then in and came her father dear, + Said--"Let a' your mourning be: + I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay, + And I'll come back and comfort thee."-- 60 + + "Comfort weel your seven sons, + For comforted will I never be: + I ween 'twas neither knave nor loon + Was in the bower last night wi' me."-- + +20. In Kinloch's version of this ballad we have an additional stanza +here:-- + + ----"Ye'll take me in your arms twa, + Ye'll carry me into your bed, + And ye may swear, and save your aith, + That in your bour floor I ne'er gae'd." + + +PART SECOND. + + The clinking bell gaed through the town,[L1] + To carry the dead corse to the clay; + And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret's window, + I wot, an hour before the day. + + "Are ye sleeping, Margaret?" he says, 5 + "Or are ye waking presentlie? + Give me my faith and troth again, + I wot, true love, I gied to thee."-- + + "Your faith and troth ye sall never get, + Nor our true love sall never twin, 10 + Until ye come within my bower, + And kiss me cheik and chin."-- + + "My mouth it is full cold, Margaret, + It has the smell, now, of the ground; + And if I kiss thy comely mouth, 15 + Thy days of life will not be lang. + + "O cocks are crowing a merry midnight, + I wot the wild fowls are boding day; + Give me my faith and troth again, + And let me fare me on my way."-- 20 + + "Thy faith and troth thou sall na get, + And our true love shall never twin, + Until ye tell what comes of women, + I wot, who die in strong traiveling." + + "Their beds are made in the heavens high, 25 + Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee, + Weel set about wi' gillyflowers; + I wot sweet company for to see. + + "O cocks are crowing a merry midnight, + I wot the wild fowl are boding day; 30 + The psalms of heaven will soon be sung, + And I, ere now, will be miss'd away."-- + + Then she has ta'en a crystal[L33] wand, + And she has stroken her troth thereon; + She has given it him out at the shot-window, 35 + Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan. + + "I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret; + And aye I thank ye heartilie; + Gin ever the dead come for the quick, + Be sure, Marg'ret, I'll come for thee."-- 40 + + It's hosen and shoon and gown alone, + She climb'd the wall, and follow'd him, + Until she came to the green forest, + And there she lost the sight o' him. + + "Is there ony room at your head, Saunders? 45 + Is there ony room at your feet? + Or ony room at your side, Saunders, + Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?"-- + + "There's nae room at my head, Marg'ret, + There's nae room at my feet; 50 + My bed it is full lowly now: + Amang the hungry worms I sleep. + + "Cauld mould is my covering now, + But and my winding-sheet; + The dew it falls nae sooner down, 55 + Than my resting place is weet. + + "But plait a wand o' bonny birk,[L57] + And lay it on my breast; + And shed a tear upon my grave, + And wish my saul gude rest. 60 + + "And fair Marg'ret, and rare Marg'ret, + And Marg'ret o' veritie, + Gin e'er ye love another man, + Ne'er love him as ye did me."-- + + Then up and crew the milk-white cock, 65 + And up and crew the grey; + Her lover vanish'd in the air, + And she gaed weeping away. + +1. The custom of the passing bell is still kept up in many villages +in Scotland. The sexton goes through the town, ringing a small bell, +and announcing the death of the departed, and the time of the +funeral. SCOTT. + +33. Chrisom. + +57. The custom of binding the new-laid sod of the churchyard with +osiers, or other saplings, prevailed both in England and Scotland, +and served to protect the turf from injury by cattle, or otherwise. +SCOTT. + + + + +SWEET WILLIE AND LADY MARGERIE. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 370. + + +"This Ballad, which possesses considerable beauty and pathos, is +given from the recitation of a lady, now far advanced in years, with +whose grandmother it was a deserved favourite. It is now for the +first time printed. It bears some resemblance to _Clerk Saunders_." + +Subjoined is a different copy from Buchan's _Ballads of the North of +Scotland_. + + + Sweet Willie was a widow's son, + And he wore a milk-white weed O; + And weel could Willie read and write, + Far better ride on steed O. + + Lady Margerie was the first ladye 5 + That drank to him the wine O; + And aye as the healths gaed round and round, + "Laddy, your love is mine O." + + Lady Margerie was the first ladye + That drank to him the beer O; 10 + And aye as the healths gaed round and round, + Laddy, ye're welcome here O. + + "You must come intill my bower, + When the evening bells do ring O; + And you must come intill my bower, 15 + When the evening mass doth sing O." + + He's taen four-and-twenty braid arrows, + And laced them in a whang O; + And he's awa to Lady Margerie's bower, + As fast as he can gang O. 20 + + He set his ae foot on the wa', + And the other on a stane O; + And he's kill'd a' the king's life guards, + He's kill'd them every man O. + + "O open, open, Lady Margerie, 25 + Open and let me in O; + The weet weets a' my yellow hair, + And the dew draps on my chin O." + + With her feet as white as sleet, + She strode her bower within O; 30 + And with her fingers lang and sma', + She's looten sweet Willie in O. + + She's louted down unto his foot, + To lowze sweet Willie's shoon O; + The buckles were sae stiff they wadna lowze, 35 + The blood had frozen in O. + + "O Willie, O Willie, I fear that thou + Hast bred me dule and sorrow; + The deed that thou hast done this nicht + Will kythe upon the morrow." 40 + + In then came her father dear, + And a braid sword by his gare O; + And he's gien Willie, the widow's son, + A deep wound and a sair O. + + "Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says, 45 + "Your sweat weets a' my side O; + Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says, + "For your sweat I downa bide O." + + She turned her back unto the wa', + Her face unto the room O; 50 + And there she saw her auld father, + Fast walking up and doun O. + + "Woe be to you, father," she said, + "And an ill deid may you die O; + For ye've killed Willie, the widow's son, 55 + And he would have married me O." + + She turned her back unto the room, + Her face unto the wa' O; + And with a deep and heavy sich, + Her heart it brak in twa O. 60 + + + + +WILLIE AND LADY MAISRY. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 155. + + +_The Bent sae Brown_, in the same volume, p. 30, resembles both +_Clerk Saunders_ and the present ballad, but has a different +catastrophe. + + Sweet Willie was a widow's son, + And milk-white was his weed; + It sets him weel to bridle a horse, + And better to saddle a steed, my dear, + And better to saddle a steed. 5 + + But he is on to Maisry's bower door, + And tirled at the pin; + "Ye sleep ye, wake ye, Lady Maisry, + Ye'll open, let me come in, my dear, + Ye'll open, let me come in." 10 + + "O who is this at my bower door, + Sae well that knows my name?" + "It is your ain true love, Willie, + If ye love me, lat me in, my dear, + If ye love me, lat me in." 15 + + Then huly, huly raise she up, + For fear o' making din; + Then in her arms lang and bent, + She caught sweet Willie in, my dear, + She caught sweet Willie in. 20 + + She lean'd her low down to her toe, + To loose her true love's sheen; + But cauld, cauld were the draps o' bleed, + Fell fae his trusty brand, my dear, + Fell fae his trusty brand. 25 + + "What frightfu' sight is that, my love? + A frightfu' sight to see; + What bluid is this on your sharp brand, + O may ye not tell me, my dear? + O may ye not tell me?" 30 + + "As I came thro' the woods this night, + The wolf maist worried me; + O shou'd I slain the wolf, Maisry? + Or shou'd the wolf slain me, my dear? + Or shou'd the wolf slain me?" 35 + + They hadna kiss'd nor love clapped, + As lovers when they meet, + Till up it starts her auld father, + Out o' his drowsy sleep, my dear, + Out o' his drowsy sleep. 40 + + "O what's become o' my house cock + Sae crouse at ane did craw? + I wonder as much at my bold watch, + That's nae shootin ower the wa', my dear, + That's nae shooting ower the wa'. 45 + + "My gude house cock, my only son, + Heir ower my land sae free; + If ony ruffian hae him slain, + High hanged shall he be, my dear, + High hanged shall he be." 50 + + Then he's on to Maisry's bower door, + And tirled at the pin; + "Ye sleep ye, wake ye, daughter Maisry, + Ye'll open, lat me come in, my dear, + Ye'll open, lat me come in." 55 + + Between the curtains and the wa', + She row'd her true love then; + And huly went she to the door, + And let her father in, my dear, + And let her father in. 60 + + "What's become o' your maries, Maisry, + Your bower it looks sae teem? + What's become o' your green claithing? + Your beds they are sae thin, my dear, + Your beds they are sae thin." 65 + + "Gude forgie you, father," she said, + "I wish ye be't for sin; + Sae aft as ye hae dreaded me, + But never found me wrang, my dear, + But never found me wrang." 70 + + He turn'd him right and round about, + As he'd been gaun awa'; + But sae nimbly as he slippet in, + Behind a screen sae sma', my dear, + Behind a screen sae sma'. 75 + + Maisry thinking a' dangers past, + She to her love did say; + "Come, love, and take your silent rest, + My auld father's away, my dear, + My auld father's away!" 80 + + Then baith lock'd in each other's arms, + They fell full fast asleep; + When up it starts her auld father, + And stood at their bed feet, my dear, + And stood at their bed feet. 85 + + "I think I hae the villain now, + That my dear son did slay; + But I shall be reveng'd on him, + Before I see the day, my dear, + Before I see the day." 90 + + Then he's drawn out a trusty brand, + And stroak'd it o'er a stray; + And thro' and thro' sweet Willie's middle + He's gart cauld iron gae, my dear, + He's gart cauld iron gae. 95 + + Then up it waken'd Lady Maisry, + Out o' her drowsy sleep; + And when she saw her true love slain, + She straight began to weep, my dear, + She straight began to weep. 100 + + "O gude forgie you now, father," she said, + "I wish ye be't for sin; + For I never lov'd a love but ane, + In my arms ye've him slain, my dear, + In my arms ye've him slain." 105 + + "This night he's slain my gude bold watch, + Thirty stout men and twa; + Likewise he's slain your ae brother, + To me was worth them a', my dear, + To me was worth them a'." 110 + + "If he has slain my ae brither, + Himsell had a' the blame; + For mony a day he plots contriv'd, + To hae sweet Willie slain, my dear, + To hae sweet Willie slain. 115 + + "And tho' he's slain your gude bold watch, + He might hae been forgien; + They came on him in armour bright, + When he was but alane, my dear, + When he was but alane." 120 + + Nae meen was made for this young knight, + In bower where he lay slain; + But a' was for sweet Maisry bright, + In fields where she ran brain, my dear, + In fields where she ran brain. 125 + + + + +THE CLERK'S TWA SONS O' OWSENFORD. + + +"This singularly wild and beautiful old ballad," says Chambers, +(_Scottish Ballads_, p. 345,) "is chiefly taken from the recitation +of the editor's grandmother, who learned it, when a girl, nearly +seventy years ago, from a Miss Anne Gray, resident at Neidpath +Castle, Peeblesshire; some additional stanzas, and a few various +readings, being adopted from a less perfect, and far less poetical +copy, published in Mr. Buchan's [_Ancient Ballads and Songs of the +North of Scotland_, i. 281,] and from a fragment in the _Border +Minstrelsy_, entitled _The Wife of Usher's Well_, [vol. i. p. 214, +of this collection,] but which is evidently the same narrative."[A] + + [A] There is to a certain extent a resemblance between this ballad + and the German ballad _Das Schloss in Oesterreich_, found in most of + the German collections, and in Swedish and Danish. + +"The editor has been induced to divide this ballad into two parts, +on account of the _great superiority of what follows over what goes +before, and because the latter portion is in a great measure +independent of the other_, so far as sense is concerned. The first +part is composed of the Peeblesshire version, mingled with that of +the northern editor: the second is formed of the Peeblesshire +version, mingled with the fragment called _The Wife of Usher's +Well_." + +The natural desire of men to hear more of characters in whom they +have become strongly interested, has frequently stimulated the +attempt to continue successful fictions, and such supplements are +proverbially unfortunate. A ballad-singer would have powerful +inducements to gratify this passion of his audience, and he could +most economically effect the object by stringing two ballads +together. When a tale ended tragically, the sequel must of necessity +be a ghost-story, and we have already had, in _Clerk Saunders_, an +instance of this combination. Mr. Chambers has furnished the best +possible reasons for believing that the same process has taken place +in the case of the present ballad, and that the two parts, (which +occur separately,) having originally had no connection, were +arbitrarily united, to suit the purposes of some unscrupulous +rhapsodist. + + +PART FIRST. + + O I will sing to you a sang, + Will grieve your heart full sair; + How the Clerk's twa sons o' Owsenford + Have to learn some unco lear. + + They hadna been in fair Parish 5 + A twelvemonth and a day, + Till the Clerk's twa sons fell deep in love + Wi' the Mayor's dauchters twae. + + And aye as the twa clerks sat and wrote, + The ladies sewed and sang; 10 + There was mair mirth in that chamber, + Than in a' fair Ferrol's land. + + But word's gane to the michty Mayor, + As he sailed on the sea, + That the Clerk's twa sons made licht lemans 15 + O' his fair dauchters twae. + + "If they hae wranged my twa dauchters, + Janet and Marjorie, + The morn, ere I taste meat or drink, + Hie hangit they shall be." 20 + + And word's gane to the clerk himsell, + As he was drinking wine, + That his twa sons at fair Parish + Were bound in prison strang. + + Then up and spak the Clerk's ladye, 25 + And she spak tenderlie: + "O tak wi' ye a purse o' gowd, + Or even tak ye three; + And if ye canna get William, + Bring Henry hame to me." 30 + + O sweetly sang the nightingale, + As she sat on the wand; + But sair, sair mourned Owsenford, + As he gaed in the strand. + + When he came to their prison strang, 35 + He rade it round about, + And at a little shot-window, + His sons were looking out. + + "O lie ye there, my sons," he said, + "For owsen or for kye? 40 + Or what is it that ye lie for, + Sae sair bound as ye lie?" + + "We lie not here for owsen, father; + Nor yet do we for kye; + But it's for a little o' dear-boucht love, 45 + Sae sair bound as we lie. + + "O borrow us, borrow us, father," they said, + "For the luve we bear to thee!" + "O never fear, my pretty sons, + Weel borrowed ye sall be." 50 + + Then he's gane to the michty Mayor, + And he spak courteouslie: + "Will ye grant my twa sons' lives, + Either for gold or fee? + Or will ye be sae gude a man, 55 + As grant them baith to me?" + + "I'll no grant ye your twa sons' lives, + Neither for gold nor fee; + Nor will I be sae gude a man, + As gie them baith to thee; 60 + But before the morn at twal o'clock, + Ye'll see them hangit hie!" + + Ben it came the Mayor's dauchters, + Wi' kirtle coat alone; + Their eyes did sparkle like the gold, 65 + As they tripped on the stone. + + "Will ye gie us our loves, father, + For gold, or yet for fee? + Or will ye take our own sweet lives, + And let our true loves be?" 70 + + He's taen a whip into his hand, + And lashed them wondrous sair; + "Gae to your bowers, ye vile limmers; + Ye'se never see them mair." + + Then out it speaks auld Owsenford; 75 + A sorry man was he: + "Gang to your bouirs, ye lilye flouirs; + For a' this maunna be." + + Then out it speaks him Hynde Henry: + "Come here, Janet, to me; 80 + Will ye gie me my faith and troth, + And love, as I gae thee?" + + "Ye sall hae your faith and troth, + Wi' God's blessing and mine:" + And twenty times she kissed his mouth, 85 + Her father looking on. + + Then out it speaks him gay William: + "Come here, sweet Marjorie; + Will ye gie me my faith and troth, + And love, as I gae thee?" 90 + + "Yes, ye sall hae your faith and troth, + Wi' God's blessing and mine:" + And twenty times she kissed his mouth, + Her father looking on. + + * * * * * + + "O ye'll tak aff your twa black hats, 95 + Lay them down on a stone, + That nane may ken that ye are clerks, + Till ye are putten doun." + + The bonnie clerks they died that morn; + Their loves died lang ere noon; 100 + And the waefu' Clerk o' Owsenford + To his lady has gane hame. + + +PART SECOND. + + His lady sat on her castle wa', + Beholding dale and doun; + And there she saw her ain gude lord + Come walking to the toun. + + "Ye're welcome, ye're welcome, my ain gude lord, 5 + Ye're welcome hame to me; + But where-away are my twa sons? + Ye suld hae brought them wi' ye." + + "O they are putten to a deeper lear, + And to a higher scule: 10 + Your ain twa sons will no be hame + Till the hallow days o' Yule." + + "O sorrow, sorrow, come mak my bed; + And, dule, come lay me doun; + For I will neither eat nor drink, 15 + Nor set a fit on groun'!" + + The hallow days o' Yule were come, + And the nights were lang and mirk, + When in and cam her ain twa sons, + And their hats made o' the birk. 20 + + It neither grew in syke nor ditch, + Nor yet in ony sheuch; + But at the gates o' Paradise + That birk grew fair eneuch. + + "Blow up the fire, now, maidens mine, 25 + Bring water from the well; + For a' my house shall feast this night, + Since my twa sons are well. + + "O eat and drink, my merry-men a', + The better shall ye fare; 30 + For my two sons they are come hame + To me for evermair." + + And she has gane and made their bed, + She's made it saft and fine; + And she's happit them wi' her gay mantil, 35 + Because they were her ain. + + But the young cock crew in the merry Linkum, + And the wild fowl chirped for day; + And the aulder to the younger said, + "Brother, we maun away. 40 + + "The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, + The channerin worm doth chide; + Gin we be missed out o' our place, + A sair pain we maun bide." + + "Lie still, lie still a little wee while, 45 + Lie still but if we may; + Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes, + She'll gae mad ere it be day." + + * * * * * + + O it's they've taen up their mother's mantil, + And they've hung it on a pin: 50 + "O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantil, + Ere ye hap us again." + + + + +CHILDE VYET. + + +First printed in a complete form in Maidment's _North Countrie +Garland_, p. 24. The same editor contributed a slightly different +copy to Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, (p. 173.) An inferior version is +furnished by Buchan, i. 234, and Jamieson has published a fragment +on the same story, here given in the Appendix. + + Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet, + Were both born in ane bower, + Had both their loves on one Lady, + The less was their honour.[L4] + + Childe Vyet and Lord Ingram, 5 + Were both born in one hall, + Had both their loves on one Lady + The worse did them befall. + + Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey, + From father and from mother; 10 + Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey, + From sister and from brother. + + Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey, + With leave of all her kin; + And every one gave full consent, 15 + But she said no, to him. + + Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey, + Into her father's ha'; + Childe Vyet wooed the Lady Maiserey, + Among the sheets so sma'. 20 + + Now it fell out upon a day, + She was dressing her head, + That ben did come her father dear, + Wearing the gold so red. + + "Get up now, Lady Maiserey, 25 + Put on your wedding gown, + For Lord Ingram will be here, + Your wedding must be done!" + + "I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife, + The white fish for to sell, 30 + Before I were Lord Ingram's wife, + To wear the silk so well! + + "I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife, + With him to beg my bread, + Before I'd be Lord Ingram's wife, 35 + To wear the gold so red. + + "Where will I get a bonny boy, + Will win gold to his fee, + Will run unto Childe Vyet's ha', + With this letter from me?" 40 + + "O here, I am the boy," says one, + "Will win gold to my fee, + And carry away any letter, + To Childe Vyet from thee." + + And when he found the bridges broke, 45 + He bent his bow and swam; + And when he found the grass growing, + He hasten'd and he ran. + + And when he came to Vyet's castle, + He did not knock nor call, 50 + But set his bent bow to his breast, + And lightly leaped the wall; + And ere the porter open'd the gate, + The boy was in the hall. + + The first line that Childe Vyet read, 55 + A grieved man was he; + The next line that he looked on, + A tear blinded his e'e. + + "What ails my own brother," he says, + "He'll not let my love be; 60 + But I'll send to my brother's bridal; + The woman shall be free. + + "Take four and twenty bucks and ewes, + And ten tun of the wine, + And bid my love be blythe and glad, 65 + And I will follow syne." + + There was not a groom about that castle, + But got a gown of green; + And a' was blythe, and a' was glad, + But Lady Maiserey was wi' wean.[L70] 70 + + There was no cook about the kitchen, + But got a gown of gray; + And a' was blythe, and a' was glad, + But Lady Maiserey was wae. + + 'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle, 75 + Was all spread o'er with garl,[L76] + To keep the lady and her maidens, + From tramping on the marl.[L78] + + From Mary Kirk to that castle, + Was spread a cloth of gold, 80 + To keep the lady and her maidens, + From treading on the mould. + + When mass was sung, and bells were rung, + And all men bound for bed, + Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maiserey, 85 + In one bed they were laid. + + When they were laid upon their bed, + It was baith soft and warm, + He laid his hand over her side, + Says he, "you are with bairn." 90 + + "I told you once, so did I twice, + When ye came as my wooer, + That Childe Vyet, your one brother, + One night lay in my bower. + + "I told you twice, so did I thrice, 95 + Ere ye came me to wed, + That Childe Vyet, your one brother, + One night lay in my bed!" + + "O will you father your bairn on me, + And on no other man? 100 + And I'll gie him to his dowry, + Full fifty ploughs of land." + + "I will not father my bairn on you, + Nor on no wrongous man, + Tho' you'd gie him to his dowry, 105 + Five thousand ploughs of land." + + Then up did start him Childe Vyet, + Shed by his yellow hair, + And gave Lord Ingram to the heart, + A deep wound and a sair. 110 + + Then up did start him Lord Ingram, + Shed by his yellow hair, + And gave Childe Vyet to the heart, + A deep wound and a sair. + + There was no pity for the two lords, 115 + Where they were lying slain, + All was for Lady Maiserey: + In that bower she gaed brain! + + There was no pity for the two lords, + When they were lying dead, 120 + All was for Lady Maiserey: + In that bower she went mad! + + "O get to me a cloak of cloth, + A staff of good hard tree; + If I have been an evil woman, 125 + I shall beg till I die. + + "For ae bit I'll beg for Childe Vyet, + For Lord Ingram I'll beg three, + All for the honourable marriage, that + At Mary Kirk he gave me!" 130 + +4. The less was their bonheur. MOTHERWELL. + +70, she was neen. Motherwell. + +76, gold. + +78, mould. N. C. G. + + + + +LADY MAISRY. + + +This ballad, said to be very popular in Scotland, was taken down +from recitation by Jamieson, and is extracted from his collection, +vol. i. p. 73. A different copy, from Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. +234, is given in the Appendix. Another, styled _Young Prince James_, +may be seen in Buchan's _Ballads_, vol. i. 103. _Bonnie Susie +Cleland_, Motherwell, p. 221, is still another version. + +In _Lady Maisry_ we seem to have the English form of a tragic story +which, starting from Denmark, has spread over almost all the north +of Europe, that of _King Waldemar and his Sister_. Grundtvig's +collection gives seven copies of the Danish ballad upon this subject +(_Kong Valdemar og hans Söster_, No. 126), the oldest from a +manuscript of the beginning of the 17th century. Five Icelandic +versions are known, one Norse, one Faroish, five Swedish (four of +them in Arwidsson, No. 53, _Liten Kerstin och Fru Sofia_), and +several in German, as _Graf Hans von Holstein und seine Schwester +Annchristine_, Erk, _Liederhort_, p. 155; _Der Grausame Bruder_, +Erk, p. 153, and Hoffmann, _Schlesische Volkslieder_, No. 27; _Der +Grobe Bruder_, _Wunderhorn_, ii. 272; _Der Pfalzgraf am Rhein_, +_id._ i. 259, etc.; also a fragment in Wendish. The relationship of +the English ballad to the rest of the cycle can perhaps be easiest +shown by comparison with the simplified and corrupted German +versions. + +The story appears to be founded on facts which occurred during the +reign and in the family of the Danish king, Waldemar the First, +sometime between 1157 and 1167. Waldemar is described as being, with +all his greatness, of a relentless and cruel disposition (_in ira +pertinax_; _in suos tantum plus justo crudelior_). Tradition, +however, has imputed to him a brutal ferocity beyond belief. In the +ballad before us, Lady Maisry suffers for her weakness by being +burned at the stake, but in the Danish, Swedish, and German ballads, +the king's sister is beaten to death with leathern whips, by her +brother's own hand. + + "Er schlug sie so sehre, er schlug sie so lang, + Bis Lung und Leber aus dem Leib ihr sprang!" + +The Icelandic and Faroe ballads have nothing of this horrible +ferocity, but contain a story which is much nearer to probability, +if not to historical truth. While King Waldemar is absent on an +expedition against the Wends, his sister Kristín is drawn into a +_liaison_ with her second-cousin, the result of which is the birth +of two children. Sofía, the Queen, maliciously makes the state of +things known to the king the moment he returns (which is on the very +day of Kristín's lying in, according to the Danish ballad), but he +will not believe the story,--all the more because the accused +parties are within prohibited degrees of consanguinity. Kristín is +summoned to come instantly to her brother, and obeys the message, +though she is weak with childbirth, and knows that the journey will +cost her her life. She goes to the court on horseback (in the Danish +ballads falling from the saddle once or twice on the way), and on +her arrival is put to various tests to ascertain her condition, +concluding with a long dance with the king, to which, having held +out for a considerable time, she at last succumbs, and falls dead in +her brother's arms. + +The incidents of the journey on horseback, and the cruel probation +by the dance, are found in the ballad which follows the present +(_Fair Janet_), and these coincidences Grundtvig considers +sufficient to establish its derivation from the Danish. The +_general_ similarity of _Lady Maisry_ to _King Waldemar and his +Sister_ is, however, much more striking. For our part, we are +inclined to believe that _both_ the English ballads had this origin, +but the difference in their actual form is so great, that, +notwithstanding this conviction, we have not felt warranted in +putting them together. + + The young lords o' the north country + Have all a-wooing gane, + To win the love of lady Maisry, + But o' them she wou'd hae nane. + + O thae hae sought her, lady Maisry, 5 + Wi' broaches, and wi' rings; + And they hae courted her, lady Maisry, + Wi' a' kin kind of things. + + And they hae sought her, lady Maisry, + Frae father and frae mither; 10 + And they hae sought her, lady Maisry, + Frae sister and frae brither. + + And they hae follow'd her, lady Maisry, + Thro' chamber, and through ha'; + But a' that they could say to her, 15 + Her answer still was "Na." + + "O haud your tongues, young men," she said, + "And think nae mair on me; + For I've gi'en my love to an English lord, + Sae think nae mair on me." 20 + + Her father's kitchey-boy heard that, + (An ill death mot he die!) + And he is in to her brother, + As fast as gang cou'd he. + + "O is my father and my mother weel, 25 + But and my brothers three? + Gin my sister lady Maisry be weel, + There's naething can ail me." + + "Your father and your mother is weel, + But and your brothers three; 30 + Your sister, lady Maisry's, weel, + Sae big wi' bairn is she." + + "A malison light on the tongue, + Sic tidings tells to me!-- + But gin it be a lie you tell, 35 + You shall be hanged hie." + + He's doen him to his sister's bower, + Wi' mickle dool and care; + And there he saw her, lady Maisry, + Kembing her yellow hair. 40 + + "O wha is aucht that bairn," he says,[L41] + "That ye sae big are wi'? + And gin ye winna own the truth, + This moment ye sall die." + + She's turned her richt and round about, 45 + And the kembe fell frae her han'; + A trembling seized her fair bodie, + And her rosy cheek grew wan. + + "O pardon me, my brother dear, + And the truth I'll tell to thee; 50 + My bairn it is to Lord William, + And he is betrothed to me." + + "O cou'dna ye gotten dukes, or lords, + Intill your ain countrie, + That ye drew up wi' an English dog, 55 + To bring this shame on me? + + "But ye maun gi'e up your English lord, + Whan your young babe is born; + For, gin ye keep by him an hour langer, + Your life shall be forlorn." 60 + + "I will gi'e up this English lord, + Till my young babe be born; + But the never a day nor hour langer, + Though my life should be forlorn." + + "O whare is a' my merry young men, 65 + Wham I gi'e meat and fee, + To pu' the bracken and the thorn, + To burn this vile whore wi'?" + + "O whare will I get a bonny boy, + To help me in my need, 70 + To rin wi' haste to Lord William, + And bid him come wi' speed?" + + O out it spak a bonny boy, + Stood by her brother's side; + "It's I wad rin your errand, lady, 75 + O'er a' the warld wide. + + "Aft ha'e I run your errands, lady, + When blawin baith wind and weet; + But now I'll rin your errand, lady, + With saut tears on my cheek." 80 + + O whan he came to broken briggs, + He bent his bow and swam; + And whan he came to the green grass growin', + He slack'd his shoon and ran. + + And when he came to Lord William's yeats, 85 + He badena to chap or ca'; + But set his bent bow to his breast, + And lightly lap the wa'; + And, or the porter was at the yeat, + The boy was in the ha'. 90 + + "O is my biggins broken, boy? + Or is my towers won? + Or is my lady lighter yet, + O' a dear daughter or son?" + + "Your biggin isna broken, sir, 95 + Nor is your towers won; + But the fairest lady in a' the land + This day for you maun burn." + + "O saddle to me the black, the black, + Or saddle to me the brown; 100 + Or saddle to me the swiftest steed + That ever rade frae a town." + + Or he was near a mile awa', + She heard his weir-horse sneeze; + "Mend up the fire, my fause brother, 105 + It's nae come to my knees." + + O whan he lighted at the yeat, + She heard his bridle ring: + "Mend up the fire, my fause brother; + It's far yet frae my chin. 110 + + "Mend up the fire to me, brother, + Mend up the fire to me; + For I see him comin' hard and fast, + Will soon men't up for thee. + + "O gin my hands had been loose, Willy, 115 + Sae hard as they are boun', + I wadd hae turn'd me frae the gleed, + And casten out your young son." + + "O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, + Your father and your mother; 120 + And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, + Your sister and your brother; + + "And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, + The chief o' a' your kin; + And the last bonfire that I come to, 125 + Mysell I will cast in." + +v. 41. See preface to _Clerk Saunders_, p. 319. + + + + +FAIR JANET. + +From Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 1. + + +"This ballad, the subject of which appears to have been very +popular, is printed as it was sung by an old woman in Perthshire. +The air is extremely beautiful." + +Herd gave an imperfect version of this ballad under the title of +_Willie and Annet_, in his _Scottish Songs_, i. 219; repeated after +him in Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, and in Johnson's _Museum_. +Finlay's copy, improved, but made up of fragments, follows the +present, and in the Appendix is _Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry_, from +Buchan's collection. We have followed Motherwell by inserting (in +brackets) three stanzas from _Willie and Annet_ and _Sweet Willie_, +which contribute slightly to complete Sharpe's copy. None of these +ballads is satisfactory, though Sharpe's is the best. Touching the +relation of _Fair Janet_ to the Danish ballad of _King Waldemar and +his Sister_, the reader will please look at the preface to the +preceding ballad. + + "Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, + Ye maun gang to him soon; + Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, + In case that his days are dune!" + + Janet's awa' to her father, 5 + As fast as she could hie; + "O what's your will wi' me, father? + O what's your will wi' me?" + + "My will wi' you, Fair Janet," he said, + "It is both bed and board; 10 + Some say that ye lo'e Sweet Willie, + But ye maun wed a French lord." + + "A French lord maun I wed, father? + A French lord maun I wed? + Then, by my sooth," quo' Fair Janet, 15 + "He's ne'er enter my bed." + + Janet's awa' to her chamber, + As fast as she could go; + Wha's the first ane that tapped there, + But Sweet Willie her jo! 20 + + "O we maun part this love, Willie, + That has been lang between; + There's a French lord coming o'er the sea + To wed me wi' a ring; + There 's a French lord coming o'er the sea, 25 + To wed and tak me hame." + + "If we maun part this love, Janet, + It causeth mickle woe; + If we maun part this love, Janet, + It makes me into mourning go." 30 + + "But ye maun gang to your three sisters, + Meg, Marion, and Jean; + Tell them to come to Fair Janet, + In case that her days are dune." + + Willie's awa' to his three sisters, 35 + Meg, Marion, and Jean; + "O haste, and gang to Fair Janet, + I fear that her days are dune." + + Some drew to them their silken hose, + Some drew to them their shoon, 40 + Some drew to them their silk manteils, + Their coverings to put on; + And they're awa' to Fair Janet, + By the hie light o' the moon. + + * * * * * * * + + "O I have born this babe, Willie, 45 + Wi' mickle toil and pain; + Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie, + For nurse I dare be nane." + + He's tane his young son in his arms, + And kist him cheek and chin,-- 50 + And he's awa' to his mother's bower, + By the hie light o' the moon. + + "O open, open, mother," he says, + "O open, and let me in; + The rain rains on my yellow hair, 55 + And the dew drops o'er my chin,-- + And I hae my young son in my arms, + I fear that his days are dune." + + With her fingers lang and sma' + She lifted up the pin; 60 + And with her arms lang and sma' + Received the baby in. + + "Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie, + And comfort your fair lady; + For where ye had but ae nourice, 65 + Your young son shall hae three." + + Willie he was scarce awa', + And the lady put to bed, + When in and came her father dear: + "Make haste, and busk the bride." 70 + + "There's a sair pain in my head, father, + There's a sair pain in my side; + And ill, O ill, am I, father, + This day for to be a bride." + + "O ye maun busk this bonny bride, 75 + And put a gay mantle on; + For she shall wed this auld French lord, + Gin she should die the morn." + + Some put on the gay green robes, + And some put on the brown; 80 + But Janet put on the scarlet robes, + To shine foremost through the town. + + And some they mounted the black steed, + And some mounted the brown; + But Janet mounted the milk-white steed, 85 + To ride foremost through the town. + + "O wha will guide your horse, Janet? + O wha will guide him best?" + "O wha but Willie, my true love, + He kens I lo'e him best!" 90 + + And when they cam to Marie's kirk, + To tye the haly ban, + Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan, + And her colour gaed and cam. + + When dinner it was past and done, 95 + And dancing to begin, + "O we'll go take the bride's maidens, + And we'll go fill the ring." + + O ben than cam the auld French lord, + Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?" + "Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord, 100 + Your face I downa see." + + O ben than cam now Sweet Willie, + He cam with ane advance: + "O I'll go tak the bride's maidens, 105 + And we'll go tak a dance." + + "I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie, + And so has mony mae; + Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel', + Let a' my maidens gae." 110 + + O ben than cam now Sweet Willie, + Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?" + "Aye, by my sooth, and that I will, + Gin my back should break in three." + + [And she's ta'en Willie by the hand, 115 + The tear blinded her e'e; + "O I wad dance wi' my true love, + Tho' bursts my heart in three!"] + + She hadna turned her throw the dance, + Throw the dance but thrice, 120 + Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet, + And up did never rise! + + [She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm, + Her garter frae her knee: + "Gie that, gie that, to my young son; 125 + He'll ne'er his mother see."] + + Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer, + And gi'en it to his man; + "Gae hame, and tell my mother dear, + My horse he has me slain; 130 + Bid her be kind to my young son, + For father he has nane." + + ["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried, + "Gar deal, gar deal the wine; + This day has seen my true love's death, 135 + This night shall witness mine."] + + The tane was buried in Marie's kirk, + And the tither in Marie's quire: + Out of the tane there grew a birk, + And the tither a bonny brier. 140 + + + + +SWEET WILLIE. + + +"This ballad has had the misfortune, in common with many others, of +being much mutilated by reciters. I have endeavoured, by the +assistance of some fragments, to make it as complete as possible; +and have even taken the liberty of altering the arrangement of some +of the stanzas of a lately-procured copy, that they might the better +cohere with those already printed." FINLAY'S _Scottish Ballads_, ii. +61. + + "Will you marry the southland lord, + A queen o' fair England to be? + Or will you mourn for sweet Willie, + The morn upon yon lea?" + + "I will marry the southland lord, 5 + Father, sen it is your will; + But I'd rather it were my burial day, + For my grave I'm going till. + + "O go, O go now my bower wife, + O go now hastilie, 10 + O go now to sweet Willie's bower, + And bid him cum speak to me.-- + + "Now, Willie, gif ye love me weel, + As sae it seems to me, + Gar build, gar build a bonny ship, 15 + Gar build it speedilie! + + "And we will sail the sea sae green + Unto some far countrie; + Or we'll sail to some bonny isle, + Stands lanely midst the sea." 20 + + But lang or e'er the ship was built, + Or deck'd or rigged out, + Cam sic a pain in Annet's back, + That down she cou'dna lout. + + "Now, Willie, gin ye love me weel, 25 + As sae it seems to me, + O haste, haste, bring me to my bower, + And my bower maidens three." + + He's ta'en her in his arms twa, + And kiss'd her cheek and chin, 30 + He's brocht her to her ain sweet bower, + But nae bower maid was in. + + "Now leave my bower, Willie," she said, + "Now leave me to my lane; + Was never man in a lady's bower 35 + When she was travailing." + + He's stepped three steps down the stair, + Upon the marble stane, + Sae loud's he heard his young son greet, + But and his lady mane. 40 + + "Now come, now come, Willie," she said, + "Tak your young son frae me, + And hie him to your mother's bower, + With speed and privacie." + + And he is to his mother's bower, 45 + As fast as he could rin; + "Open, open, my mother dear, + Open, and let me in; + + "For the rain rains on my yellow hair, + The dew stands on my chin, 50 + And I have something in my lap, + And I wad fain be in." + + "O go, O go now, sweet Willie, + And make your lady blithe, + For wherever you had ae nourice, 55 + Your young son shall hae five."-- + + Out spak Annet's mother dear, + An' she spak a word o' pride; + Says, "Whare is a' our bride's maidens, + They're no busking the bride?" 60 + + "O haud your tongue, my mother dear, + Your speaking let it be, + For I'm sae fair and full o' flesh, + Little busking will serve me." + + Out an' spak the bride's maidens, 65 + They spak a word o' pride; + Says, "Whare is a' the fine cleiding? + Its we maun busk the bride." + + "Deal hooly wi' my head, maidens, + Deal hooly wi' my hair, 70 + For it was washen late yestreen, + And it is wonder sair. + + "My maidens, easy wi' my back, + And easy wi' my side; + O set my saddle saft, Willie, 75 + I am a tender bride." + + O up then spak the southland lord, + And blinkit wi' his ee; + "I trow this lady's born a bairn," + Then laucht loud lauchters three. 80 + + "Ye hae gi'en me the gowk, Annet, + But I'll gie you the scorn; + For there's no a bell in a' the town + Shall ring for you the morn." + + Out and spak then sweet Willie, 85 + "Sae loud's I hear you lie, + There's no a bell in a' the town + But shall ring for Annet and me." + + And Willie swore a great great oath, + And he swore by the thorn, 90 + That she was as free o' a child that night, + As the night that she was born. + + O up an' spak the brisk bridegroom,[L93] + And he spak up wi' pride, + "Gin I should lay my gloves in pawn, 95 + I will dance wi' the bride." + + "Now haud your tongue, my lord," she said,[L97] + "Wi' dancing let me be, + I am sae thin in flesh and blude, + Sma' dancing will serve me." 100 + + But she's ta'en Willie by the hand, + The tear blinded her ee; + "But I wad dance wi' my true love, + But bursts my heart in three." + + She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm, 105 + Her garter frae her knee, + "Gie that, gie that, to my young son; + He'll ne'er his mother see." + +93. _Sic_ Herd. Finlay, then sweet Willie. + +97. _Sic_ Herd. Finlay, Willie, she said. + + + + +FAIR ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN. + + +Of this beautiful piece a complete copy was first published by +Scott, another afterwards by Jamieson. Both are here given, the +latter, as in some respects preferable, having the precedence. The +ballad is found almost entire in Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 206, a +short fragment in Johnson's _Museum_, p. 5, and a more considerable +one, called _Love Gregory_, in Buchan's collection, ii. 199. This +last has been unnecessarily repeated in a very indifferent +publication of the Percy Society, vol. xvii. Dr. Wolcot, Burns, and +Jamieson have written songs on the story of Fair Annie, and +Cunningham has modernized Sir Walter Scott's version, after his +fashion, in the _Songs of Scotland_, i. 298. + +Of his text, Jamieson remarks, "it is given _verbatim_ from the +large MS. collection, transmitted from Aberdeen, by my zealous and +industrious friend, Professor Robert Scott of that university. I +have every reason to believe, that no liberty whatever has been +taken with the text, which is certainly more uniform than any copy +heretofore published. It was first written down many years ago, with +no view towards being committed to the press; and is now given from +the copy then taken, with the addition only of stanzas twenty-two +and twenty-three, which the editor has inserted from memory." +_Popular Ballads_, i. 36. + +"Lochryan is a beautiful, though somewhat wild and secluded bay, +which projects from the Irish Channel into Wigtonshire, having the +little seaport of Stranraer situated at its bottom. Along its coast, +which is in some places high and rocky, there are many ruins of such +castles as that described in the ballad." CHAMBERS. + + "O wha will shoe my fair foot, + And wha will glove my han'? + And wha will lace my middle jimp + Wi' a new-made London ban'? + + "Or wha will kemb my yellow hair 5 + Wi' a new-made silver kemb? + Or wha'll be father to my young bairn, + Till love Gregor come hame?" + + "Your father'll shoe your fair foot, + Your mother glove your han'; 10 + Your sister lace your middle jimp + Wi' a new-made London ban'; + + "Your brethren will kemb your yellow hair + Wi' a new-made silver kemb; + And the king o' Heaven will father your bairn, 15 + Till love Gregor come hame." + + "O gin I had a bonny ship, + And men to sail wi' me, + It's I wad gang to my true love, + Sin he winna come to me!" 20 + + Her father's gien her a bonny ship, + And sent her to the stran'; + She's taen her young son in her arms, + And turn'd her back to the lan'. + + She hadna been o' the sea sailin' 25 + About a month or more, + Till landed has she her bonny ship + Near her true-love's door. + + The nicht was dark, and the wind blew cald, + And her love was fast asleep, 30 + And the bairn that was in her twa arms + Fu' sair began to greet. + + Lang stood she at her true love's door, + And lang tirl'd at the pin; + At length up gat his fause mother, 35 + Says, "Wha's that wad be in?" + + "O it is Annie of Lochroyan, + Your love, come o'er the sea, + But and your young son in her arms; + So open the door to me." 40 + + "Awa, awa, ye ill woman, + You're nae come here for gude; + You're but a witch, or a vile warlock, + Or mermaid o' the flude." + + "I'm nae a witch or vile warlock, 45 + Or mermaiden," said she;-- + "I'm but your Annie of Lochroyan;-- + O open the door to me!" + + "O gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan, + As I trust not ye be, 50 + What taiken can ye gie that e'er + I kept your companie?" + + "O dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says, + "Whan we sat at the wine, + How we changed the napkins frae our necks? 55 + It's nae sae lang sinsyne. + + "And yours was gude, and gude enough, + But nae sae gude as mine; + For yours was o' the cambrick clear, + But mine o' the silk sae fine. 60 + + "And dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says, + "As we twa sat at dine, + How we chang'd the rings frae our fingers, + And I can shew thee thine: + + "And yours was gude, and gude enough, 65 + Yet nae sae gude as mine; + For yours was o' the gude red gold, + But mine o' the diamonds fine. + + "Sae open the door, now, love Gregor, + And open it wi' speed; 70 + Or your young son, that is in my arms, + For cald will soon be dead." + + "Awa, awa, ye ill woman, + Gae frae my door for shame; + For I hae gotten anither fair love, 75 + Sae ye may hie you hame." + + "O hae ye gotten anither fair love, + For a' the oaths ye sware? + Then fare ye weel, now, fause Gregor; + For me ye's never see mair!" 80 + + O hooly, hooly gaed she back, + As the day began to peep; + She set her foot on good ship board, + And sair, sair did she weep. + + "Tak down, tak down the mast o' goud; 85 + Set up the mast o' tree; + Ill sets it a forsaken lady + To sail sae gallantlie. + + "Tak down, tak down the sails o' silk; + Set up the sails o' skin; 90 + Ill sets the outside to be gay, + Whan there's sic grief within!" + + Love Gregor started frae his sleep, + And to his mother did say, + "I dreamt a dream this night, mither, 95 + That maks my heart richt wae; + + "I dreamt that Annie of Lochroyan, + The flower o' a' her kin, + Was standin' mournin' at my door, + But nane wad lat her in." 100 + + "O there was a woman stood at the door, + Wi' a bairn intill her arms; + But I wadna let her within the bower, + For fear she had done you harm." + + O quickly, quickly raise he up, 105 + And fast ran to the strand; + And there he saw her, fair Annie, + Was sailing frae the land. + + And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie! + O, Annie, winna ye bide?" 110 + But ay the louder that he cried "Annie," + The higher rair'd the tide. + + And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie! + O, Annie, speak to me!" + But ay the louder that he cried "Annie," 115 + The louder rair'd the sea. + + The wind grew loud, and the sea grew rough, + And the ship was rent in twain; + And soon he saw her, fair Annie, + Come floating o'er the main. 120 + + He saw his young son in her arms, + Baith toss'd aboon the tide; + He wrang his hands, and fast he ran, + And plunged in the sea sae wide. + + He catch'd her by the yellow hair, 125 + And drew her to the strand; + But cald and stiff was every limb, + Before he reach'd the land. + + O first he kist her cherry cheek, + And syne he kist her chin; 130 + And sair he kist her ruby lips, + But there was nae breath within. + + O he has mourn'd o'er fair Annie, + Till the sun was ganging down; + Syne wi' a sich his heart it brast, 135 + And his saul to heaven has flown. + + + + +THE LASS OF LOCHROYAN. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 199. + + +"This edition of the ballad is composed of verses selected from +three MS. copies, and two obtained from recitation. Two of the +copies are in Herd's MS.; the third in that of Mrs. Brown of +Falkland." + +Lord Gregory is represented in Scott's version, "as confined by +fairy charms in an enchanted castle situated in the sea." But +Jamieson assures us that when a boy he had frequently heard this +ballad chanted in Morayshire, and no mention was ever made of +enchantment, or "fairy charms." "Indeed," he very justly adds, "the +two stanzas on that subject [v. 41-52,] are in a style of +composition very peculiar, and different from the rest of the piece, +and strongly remind us of the interpolations in the ballad of _Gil +Morris_." + + "O wha will shoe my bonny foot? + And wha will glove my hand? + And wha will lace my middle jimp + Wi' a lang, lang linen band? + + "O wha will kame my yellow hair, 5 + With a new-made silver kame? + And wha will father my young son, + Till Lord Gregory come hame?"-- + + "Thy father will shoe thy bonny foot, + Thy mother will glove thy hand, 10 + Thy sister will lace thy middle jimp, + Till Lord Gregory come to land. + + "Thy brother will kame thy yellow hair + With a new-made silver kame, + And God will be thy bairn's father 15 + Till Lord Gregory come hame."-- + + "But I will get a bonny boat, + And I will sail the sea; + And I will gang to Lord Gregory, + Since he canna come hame to me." 20 + + Syne she's gar'd build a bonny boat, + To sail the salt, salt sea; + The sails were o' the light green silk, + The tows o' taffety. + + She hadna sailed but twenty leagues, 25 + But twenty leagues and three, + When she met wi' a rank robber, + And a' his company. + + "Now whether are ye the queen hersell, + (For so ye weel might be,) 30 + Or are ye the Lass of Lochroyan, + Seekin' Lord Gregory?"-- + + "O I am neither the queen," she said, + "Nor sic I seem to be; + But I am the Lass of Lochroyan, 35 + Seekin' Lord Gregory."-- + + "O see na thou yon bonny bower, + It's a' cover'd o'er wi' tin? + When thou hast sail'd it round about, + Lord Gregory is within." 40 + + And when she saw the stately tower + Shining sae clear and bright, + Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave, + Built on a rock of height; + + Says--"Row the boat, my mariners, 45 + And bring me to the land! + For yonder I see my love's castle + Close by the salt-sea strand." + + She sail'd it round, and sail'd it round, + And loud, loud cried she-- 50 + "Now break, now break, ye fairy charms, + And set my true love free!" + + She's ta'en her young son in her arms, + And to the door she's gane; + And long she knock'd, and sair she ca'd, 55 + But answer got she nane. + + "O open the door, Lord Gregory! + O open and let me in! + For the wind blaws through my yellow hair, + And the rain draps o'er my chin."-- 60 + + "Awa, awa, ye ill woman! + Ye're no come here for good! + Ye're but some witch or wil warlock, + Or mermaid o' the flood."-- + + "I am neither witch, nor wil warlock, 65 + Nor mermaid o' the sea; + But I am Annie of Lochroyan; + O open the door to me!"-- + + "Gin thou be Annie of Lochroyan, + (As I trow thou binna she,) 70 + Now tell me some o' the love tokens + That past between thee and me."-- + + "O dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory, + As we sat at the wine, + We changed the rings frae our fingers? 75 + And I can show thee thine. + + "O yours was gude, and gude enough, + But aye the best was mine; + For yours was o' the gude red gowd, + But mine o' the diamond fine. 80 + + "And has na thou mind, Lord Gregory, + As we sat on the hill, + Thou twin'd me o' my maidenheid + Right sair against my will? + + "Now open the door, Lord Gregory! 85 + Open the door, I pray! + For thy young son is in my arms, + And will be dead ere day."-- + + "If thou be the lass of Lochroyan, + (As I kenna thou be,) 90 + Tell me some mair o' the love tokens + Past between me and thee." + + Fair Annie turn'd her round about-- + "Weel! since that it be sae, + May never a woman that has borne a son, 95 + Hae a heart sae fou o' wae! + + "Take down, take down, that mast o' gowd! + Set up a mast o' tree! + It disna become a forsaken lady + To sail sae royallie." 100 + + When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn, + And the sun began to peep, + Then up and raise him Lord Gregory, + And sair, sair did he weep. + + "Oh I hae dream'd a dream, mother, 105 + I wish it may prove true! + That the bonny Lass of Lochroyan + Was at the yate e'en now. + + "O I hae dream'd a dream, mother, + The thought o't gars me greet! 110 + That fair Annie o' Lochroyan + Lay cauld dead at my feet."-- + + "Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan + That ye make a' this din, + She stood a' last night at your door, 115 + But I true she wan na in."-- + + "O wae betide ye, ill woman! + An ill deid may ye die! + That wadna open the door to her, + Nor yet wad waken me." 120 + + O he's gane down to yon shore side + As fast as he could fare; + He saw fair Annie in the boat, + But the wind it toss'd her sair. + + "And hey, Annie, and how, Annie! 125 + O Annie, winna ye bide!" + But aye the mair he cried Annie, + The braider grew the tide. + + "And hey, Annie, and how, Annie! + Dear Annie, speak to me!" 130 + But aye the louder he cried Annie, + The louder roar'd the sea. + + The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough, + And dash'd the boat on shore; + Fair Annie floated through the faem, 135 + But the babie rose no more. + + Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair, + And made a heavy moan; + Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet, + Her bonny young son was gone. 140 + + O cherry, cherry was her cheek, + And gowden was her hair; + But clay-cold were her rosy lips-- + Nae spark o' life was there. + + And first he kiss'd her cherry cheek, 145 + And syne he kiss'd her chin, + And syne he kiss'd her rosy lips-- + There was nae breath within. + + "O wae betide my cruel mother! + An ill death may she die! 150 + She turn'd my true love frae my door, + Wha came sae far to me. + + "O wae betide my cruel mother! + An ill death may she die! + She turn'd fair Annie frae my door, 155 + Wha died for love o' me." + + + + +THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 3. + + +This ballad, of which more than thirty versions have been published +in the Northern languages, is preserved in English in several forms, +all of them more or less unsatisfactory. Of these the present copy +comes nearest to the pure original, as it is found in Danish. The +next best is _The Brave Earl Brand and The King of England's +Daughter_, recently printed for the first time in Bell's _Ballads of +the Peasantry_, and given at the end of this volume. _Erlinton_ +(vol. iii. 220) is much mutilated, and has a perverted conclusion, +but retains a faint trace of one characteristic trait of the ancient +ballad, which really constitutes the turning point of the story, but +which all the others lack. (See _Erlinton_.) A fragment exists in +the Percy MS., of which we can only say that if it much resembled +Percy's _Child of Elle_ (which it cannot), it might without loss be +left undisturbed forever. In the only remaining copy Robin Hood +appears as the hero. (See vol. v. p. 334.) It is of slight value, +but considerably less insipid than the _Child of Elle_. Motherwell +(_Minstrelsy_, p. 180) has given a few variations to Scott's ballad, +but they are of no importance.--Of the corresponding Danish ballad, +_Ribolt og Guldborg_, Grundtvig has collected more than twenty +versions, some of them ancient, many obtained from recitation, and +eight of the kindred _Hildebrand og Hilde_. There have also been +printed of the latter, three versions in Swedish, and of the former, +three in Icelandic, two in Norse, and seven in Swedish. (_Danmarks +Gamle Folkeviser_, ii. 308-403, 674-81.) Jamieson has translated an +inferior copy of the Danish ballad in _Illustrations of North. +Antiq._, p. 317. + +"The ballad of _The Douglas Tragedy_," says Scott, "is one of the +few (?) to which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality. + +"The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is said to have been the +scene of this melancholy event. There are the remains of a very +ancient tower, adjacent to the farm-house, in a wild and solitary +glen, upon a torrent named Douglas burn, which joins the Yarrow, +after passing a craggy rock, called the Douglas craig.... From this +ancient tower Lady Margaret is said to have been carried by her +lover. Seven large stones, erected upon the neighboring heights of +Blackhouse, are shown, as marking the spot where the seven brethren +were slain; and the Douglas burn is averred to have been the stream +at which the lovers stopped to drink: so minute is tradition in +ascertaining the scene of a tragical tale, which, considering the +rude state of former times, had probably foundation in some real +event." + +Were it not for Scott's concluding remark, and the obstinate +credulity of most of the English and Scotch editors, we should +hardly think it necessary to say that the locality of some of the +incidents in _Ribolt and Guldborg_, is equally well ascertained +(Grundtvig, 342, 343). "Popular tales and anecdotes of every kind," +as Jamieson well remarks, "soon obtain locality wherever they are +told; and the intelligent and attentive traveller will not be +surprised to find the same story which he had learnt when a child, +with every appropriate circumstance of names, time, and place, in a +Glen of Morven, Lochaber, or Rannoch, equally domesticated among the +mountains of Norway, Caucasus, or Thibet." _Ill. North. Ant._ p. +317. + + "Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas," she says, + "And put on your armour so bright; + Let it never be said that a daughter of thine + Was married to a lord under night. + + "Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, 5 + And put on your armour so bright, + And take better care of your youngest sister, + For your eldest's awa' the last night."-- + + He's mounted her on a milk-white steed, + And himself on a dapple grey, 10 + With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, + And lightly they rode away. + + Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder, + To see what he could see, + And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold, 15 + Come riding o'er the lee. + + "Light down, light down, Lady Marg'ret," he said, + "And hold my steed in your hand, + Until that against your seven brethren bold, + And your father, I make a stand."-- 20 + + She held his steed in her milk-white hand, + And never shed one tear, + Until that she saw her seven brethren fa', + And her father hard fighting, who loved her so dear. + + "O hold your hand, Lord William!" she said, 25 + "For your strokes they are wondrous sair; + True lovers I can get many a ane, + But a father I can never get mair."-- + + O she's ta'en out her handkerchief, + It was o' the holland sae fine, 30 + And aye she dighted her father's bloody wounds, + That were redder than the wine. + + "O chuse, O chuse, Lady Marg'ret," he said, + "O whether will ye gang or bide?"-- + "I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William," she said, 35 + "For you have left me no other guide."-- + + He's lifted her on a milk-white steed, + And himself on a dapple grey, + With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, + And slowly they baith rade away. 40 + + O they rade on, and on they rade, + And a' by the light of the moon, + Until they came to yon wan water, + And there they lighted down. + + They lighted down to tak a drink 45 + Of the spring that ran sae clear; + And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood, + And sair she 'gan to fear. + + "Hold up, hold up, Lord William," she says, + "For I fear that you are slain!"-- 50 + "'Tis naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak, + That shines in the water sae plain."-- + + O they rade on, and on they rade, + And a' by the light of the moon, + Until they cam to his mother's ha' door, 55 + And there they lighted down. + + "Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, + "Get up, and let me in!-- + Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, + "For this night my fair lady I've win. 60 + + "O mak my bed, lady mother," he says, + "O mak it braid and deep! + And lay Lady Marg'ret close at my back, + And the sounder I will sleep."-- + + Lord William was dead lang ere midnight, 65 + Lady Marg'ret lang ere day-- + And all true lovers that go thegither, + May they have mair luck than they! + + Lord William was buried in St. Marie's kirk,[L69] + Lady Marg'ret in Marie's quire; 70 + Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose, + And out o' the knight's a brier. + + And they twa met, and they twa plat, + And fain they wad be near; + And a' the warld might ken right weel, 75 + They were twa lovers dear. + + But bye and rade the Black Douglas, + And wow but he was rough! + For he pull'd up the bonny brier, + And flang't in St. Marie's Loch. 80 + +69-80. This miracle is frequently witnessed over the graves of +faithful lovers.--King Mark, according to the German romance, +planted a rose on Tristan's grave, and a vine on that of Isold. The +roots struck down into the very hearts of the dead lovers, and the +stems twined lovingly together. The French account is somewhat +different. An eglantine sprung from the tomb of Tristan, and twisted +itself round the monument of Isold. It was cut down three times, but +grew up every morning fresher than before, so that it was allowed to +stand. Other examples are, in this volume, _Fair Janet_, _Lord +Thomas and Fair Annet_; in the third volume, _Prince Robert_, &c. +The same phenomenon is exhibited in the Swedish ballads of _Hertig +Fröjdenborg och Fröken Adelin_, _Lilla Rosa_, _Hilla Lilla_, _Hertig +Nils_, (_Svenska Folk-Visor_, i. 95, 116, Arwidsson, ii. 8, 21, 24,) +in the Danish ballad of _Herr Sallemand_, (_Danske Viser_, iii. +348,) in the Breton ballad of _Lord Nann and the Korrigan_, +translated in Keightley's _Fairy Mythology_, p. 433, in a Servian +tale cited by Talvi, _Versuch_, &c., p. 139, and in the Afghan poem +of _Audam and Doorkhaunee_, described by Elphinstone, _Account of +the Kingdom of Caubul_, i. 295,--which last reference we owe to +Talvi.--In the case of the Danish ballad it is certain, and in some +of the other cases probable, that the idea was derived from the +romance of _Tristan_. + + + + +LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR. + + +The four pieces which follow have all the same subject. _Lord Thomas +and Fair Ellinor_, is given from the _Collection of Old Ballads_, +1723, vol. i. p. 249, where it is entitled, _A Tragical Ballad on +the unfortunate Love of Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor, together with +the Downfal of the Brown Girl_. The text differs but slightly from +that of Percy, (iii. 121,) and Ritson, _Ancient Songs_, ii. 89. + + Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester, + And a chaser of the king's deer; + Fair Ellinor was a fine woman, + And Lord Thomas he loved her dear. + + "Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," he said, 5 + "And riddle us both as one; + Whether I shall marry with fair Ellinor, + And let the brown girl alone?" + + "The brown girl she has got houses and land, + And fair Ellinor she has got none; 10 + Therefore I charge you on my blessing, + Bring me the brown girl home." + + As it befell on a high holiday, + As many more did beside, + Lord Thomas he went to fair Ellinor, 15 + That should have been his bride. + + But when he came to fair Ellinors bower, + He knocked there at the ring; + But who was so ready as fair Ellinor, + For to let Lord Thomas in. 20 + + "What news, what news, Lord Thomas?" she said, + "What news hast thou brought unto me?" + "I am come to bid thee to my wedding, + And that is bad news for thee." + + "O God forbid, Lord Thomas," she said, 25 + "That such a thing should be done; + I thought to have been thy bride my own self, + And you to have been the bridegrom." + + "Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," she said, + "And riddle it all in one; 30 + Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding, + Or whether I shall tarry at home?" + + "There are many that are your friends, daughter, + And many that are your foe; + Therefore I charge you on my blessing, 35 + To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go." + + "There's many that are my friends, mother; + And if a thousand more were my foe, + Betide my life, betide my death, + To Lord Thomas's wedding I'll go." 40 + + She cloathed herself in gallant attire, + And her merry men all in green; + And as they rid through every town, + They took her to be some queen. + + But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate, + She knocked there at the ring; 45 + But who was so ready as Lord Thomas, + To let fair Ellinor in. + + "Is this your bride?" fair Ellinor said; + "Methinks she looks wonderful brown; 50 + Thou might'st have had as fair a woman, + As ever trod on the ground." + + "Despise her not, fair Ellin," he said, + "Despise her not unto me; + For better I love thy little finger, 55 + Than all her whole body." + + This brown bride had a little penknife, + That was both long and sharp, + And betwixt the short ribs and the long, + Prick'd fair Ellinor to the heart. 60 + + "O Christ now save thee," Lord Thomas he said, + "Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan; + Thou us'd to look with as fresh a colour, + As ever the sun shin'd on." + + "O art thou blind, Lord Thomas?" she said, 65 + "Or canst thou not very well see? + O dost thou not see my own heart's blood + Run trickling down my knee?" + + Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side; + As he walk'd about the hall, 70 + He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders, + And threw it against the wall. + + He set the hilt against the ground, + And the point against his heart; + There never were three lovers met, 75 + That sooner did depart. + + + + +LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET. + + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 290, where it was "given, with some +corrections, from a MS. copy transmitted from Scotland." There is a +corresponding Swedish Ballad, _Herr Peder och Liten Kerstin_, in the +_Svenska Folk-Visor_, i. 49. It is translated in _Literature and +Romance of Northern Europe_, by William and Mary Howitt, i. 258. + + Lord Thomas and fair Annet + Sate a' day on a hill; + Whan night was cum, and sun was sett, + They had not talkt their fill. + + Lord Thomas said a word in jest, 5 + Fair Annet took it ill: + "A' I will nevir wed a wife + Against my ain friends will." + + "Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife, + A wife wull neir wed yee:" 10 + Sae he is hame to tell his mither, + And knelt upon his knee. + + "O rede, O rede, mither," he says, + "A gude rede gie to mee: + O sall I tak the nut-browne bride, 15 + And let faire Annet bee?" + + "The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear, + Fair Annet she has gat nane; + And the little beauty fair Annet has, + O it wull soon be gane." 20 + + And he has till his brother gane: + "Now, brother, rede ye mee; + A', sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, + And let fair Annet bee?" + + "The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother, 25 + The nut-browne bride has kye: + I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride, + And cast fair Annet bye." + + "Her oxen may dye i' the house, billie, + And her kye into the byre, 30 + And I sall hae nothing to mysell, + Bot a fat fadge by the fyre." + + And he has till his sister gane: + "Now sister, rede ye mee; + O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, 35 + And set fair Annet free?" + + "Ise rede ye tak fair Annet, Thomas, + And let the browne bride alane; + Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace, + What is this we brought hame!" 40 + + "No, I will tak my mithers counsel, + And marrie me owt o' hand; + And I will tak the nut-browne bride; + Fair Annet may leive the land." + + Up then rose fair Annets father, 45 + Twa hours or it wer day, + And he is gane into the bower + Wherein fair Annet lay. + + "Rise up, rise up, fair Annet," he says, + "Put on your silken sheene; 50 + Let us gae to St. Maries kirke, + And see that rich weddeen." + + "My maides, gae to my dressing-roome, + And dress to me my hair; + Whair-eir yee laid a plait before, 55 + See yee lay ten times mair. + + "My maids, gae to my dressing-room, + And dress to me my smock; + The one half is o' the holland fine, + The other o' needle-work." 60 + + The horse fair Annet rade upon, + He amblit like the wind; + Wi' siller he was shod before, + Wi' burning gowd behind. + + Four and twanty siller bells 65 + Wer a' tyed till his mane, + And yae tift o' the norland wind, + They tinkled ane by ane. + + Four and twanty gay gude knichts + Rade by fair Annets side, 70 + And four and twanty fair ladies, + As gin she had bin a bride. + + And whan she cam to Maries kirk, + She sat on Maries stean: + The cleading that fair Annet had on 75 + It skinkled in their een. + + And whan she cam into the kirk, + She shimmer'd like the sun; + The belt that was about her waist, + Was a' wi' pearles bedone. 80 + + She sat her by the nut-browne bride, + And her een they wer sae clear, + Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride, + Whan fair Annet she drew near. + + He had a rose into his hand, 85 + And he gave it kisses three, + And reaching by the nut-browne bride, + Laid it on fair Annets knee. + + Up than spak the nut-browne bride, + She spak wi' meikle spite; 90 + "And whair gat ye that rose-water, + That does mak yee sae white?" + + "O I did get the rose-water + Whair ye wull neir get nane, + For I did get that very rose-water 95 + Into my mithers wame." + + The bride she drew a long bodkin + Frae out her gay head-gear, + And strake fair Annet unto the heart, + That word she nevir spak mair. 100 + + Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale, + And marvelit what mote bee: + But whan he saw her dear hearts blude, + A' wood-wroth wexed hee. + + He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp, 105 + That was sae sharp and meet, + And drave into the nut-browne bride, + That fell deid at his feit. + + "Now stay for me, dear Annet," he sed, + "Now stay, my dear," he cry'd; 110 + Then strake the dagger untill his heart, + And fell deid by her side. + + Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa', + Fair Annet within the quiere; + And o' the tane thair grew a birk, 115 + The other a bonny briere. + + And ay they grew, and ay they threw, + As they wad faine be neare; + And by this ye may ken right weil, + They were twa luvers deare. 120 + + + + +SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR ANNIE + + +Is another version of the foregoing piece, furnished by Jamieson, +_Popular Ballads_, i. 22. + +"The text of _Lord Thomas and Fair Annet_," remarks Jamieson, "seems +to have been adjusted, previous to its leaving Scotland, by some one +who was more of a scholar than the reciters of ballads generally +are; and, in attempting to give it an antique cast, it has been +deprived of somewhat of that easy facility which is the +distinguished characteristic of the traditionary ballad narrative. +With the text of the following ditty, no such experiment has been +made. It is here given pure and entire, as it was taken down by the +editor, from the recitation of a lady in Aberbrothick, (Mrs. W. +Arrot.) As she had, when a child, learnt the ballad from an elderly +maid-servant, and probably had not repeated it for a dozen years +before I had the good fortune to be introduced to her, it may be +depended upon, that every line was recited to me as nearly as +possible in the exact form in which she learnt it." + +Mr. Chambers, in conformity with the plan of his work, presents us +with an edition composed out of Percy's and Jamieson's, with some +amended readings and additional verses from a manuscript copy, +(_Scottish Ballads_, p. 269.) + + Sweet Willie and fair Annie + Sat a' day on a hill; + And though they had sitten seven year, + They ne'er wad had their fill. + + Sweet Willie said a word in haste, 5 + And Annie took it ill: + "I winna wed a tocherless maid, + Against my parent's will." + + "Ye're come o' the rich, Willie, + And I'm come o' the poor; 10 + I'm o'er laigh to be your bride, + And I winna be your whore." + + O Annie she's gane till her bower, + And Willie down the den; + And he's come till his mither's bower, 15 + By the lei light o' the moon. + + "O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?" he says, + "Or are ye the bower within?" + "I sleep richt aft, I wake richt aft;[L19] + What want ye wi' me, son? 20 + + "Whare hae ye been a' night, Willie? + O wow! ye've tarried lang!" + "I have been courtin' fair Annie, + And she is frae me gane. + + "There is twa maidens in a bower; 25 + Which o' them sall I bring hame? + The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows, + And fair Annie has nane." + + "It's an ye wed the nut-brown maid, + I'll heap gold wi' my hand; 30 + But an ye wed her, fair Annie, + I'll straik it wi' a wand. + + "The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows, + And fair Annie has nane; + And Willie, for my benison, 35 + The nut-brown maid bring hame." + + "O I sall wed the nut-brown maid, + And I sall bring her hame; + But peace nor rest between us twa, + Till death sinder's again. 40 + + "But, alas, alas!" says sweet Willie, + "O fair is Annie's face!" + "But what's the matter, my son Willie, + She has nae ither grace." + + "Alas, alas!" says sweet Willie, 45 + "But white is Annie's hand!" + "But what's the matter, my son Willie, + She hasna a fur o' land." + + "Sheep will die in cots, mither, + And owsen die in byre; 50 + And what's this warld's wealth to me, + An I get na my heart's desire? + + "Whare will I get a bonny boy, + That wad fain win hose and shoon, + That will rin to fair Annie's bower, 55 + Wi' the lei light o' the moon? + + "Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin', + The morn at twal at noon; + Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin', + The heir o' Duplin town.[L60] 60 + + "She manna put on the black, the black, + Nor yet the dowie brown; + But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white, + And her bonny locks hangin' down." + + He is on to Annie's bower, 65 + And tirled at the pin; + And wha was sae ready as Annie hersel, + To open and let him in. + + "Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin', + The morn at twal at noon; 70 + Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin', + The heir of Duplin town. + + "Ye manna put on the black, the black, + Nor yet the dowie brown; + But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white, 75 + And your bonny locks hangin' down." + + "Its I will come to Willie's weddin', + The morn at twal at noon; + Its I will come to Willie's weddin', + But I rather the mass had been mine. 80 + + "Maidens, to my bower come, + And lay gold on my hair; + And whare ye laid ae plait before, + Ye'll now lay ten times mair. + + "Taylors, to my bower come, 85 + And mak to me a weed; + And smiths unto my stable come, + And shoe to me a steed." + + At every tate o' Annie's horse' mane + There hang a silver bell; 90 + And there came a wind out frae the south, + Which made them a' to knell. + + And whan she came to Mary-kirk, + And sat down in the deas, + The light, that came frae fair Annie, 95 + Enlighten'd a' the place. + + But up and stands the nut-brown bride, + Just at her father's knee; + "O wha is this, my father dear, + That blinks in Willie's e'e?" 100 + "O this is Willie's first true love, + Before he loved thee." + + "If that be Willie's first true love, + He might ha'e latten me be; + She has as much gold on ae finger, 105 + As I'll wear till I die. + + "O whare got ye that water, Annie, + That washes you sae white?" + "I got it in my mither's wambe, + Whare ye'll ne'er get the like. 110 + + "For ye've been wash'd in Dunny's well, + And dried on Dunny's dyke; + And a' the water in the sea + Will never wash ye white." + + Willie's ta'en a rose out o' his hat, 115 + Laid it in Annie's lap; + "[The bonniest to the bonniest fa's,] + Hae, wear it for my sake." + + "Tak up and wear your rose, Willie, + And wear't wi' mickle care, 120 + For the woman sall never bear a son, + That will mak my heart sae sair." + + Whan night was come, and day was gane, + And a' man boun to bed, + Sweet Willie and the nut-brown bride 125 + In their chamber were laid. + + They werena weel lyen down, + And scarcely fa'n asleep, + Whan up and stands she, fair Annie, + Just up at Willie's feet. 130 + + "Weel brook ye o' your brown brown bride, + Between ye and the wa'; + And sae will I o' my winding sheet, + That suits me best ava. + + "Weel brook ye o' your brown brown bride, 135 + Between ye and the stock; + And sae will I o' my black black kist, + That has neither key nor lock." + + Sad Willie raise, put on his claise, + Drew till him his hose and shoon, 140 + And he is on to Annie's bower, + By the lei light o' the moon. + + The firsten bower that he came till, + There was right dowie wark; + Her mither and her three sisters 145 + Were makin' to Annie a sark. + + The nexten bower that he came till, + There was right dowie cheir; + Her father and her seven brethren + Were makin' to Annie a bier. 150 + + The lasten bower, that he came till, + [O heavy was his care! + The waxen lights were burning bright,] + And fair Annie streekit there. + + He's lifted up the coverlet, 155 + [Where she, fair Annie, lay; + Sweet was her smile, but wan her cheek; + O wan, and cald as clay!] + + "It's I will kiss your bonny cheek, + And I will kiss your chin; 160 + And I will kiss your clay-cald lip; + But I'll never kiss woman again. + + "The day ye deal at Annie's burial + The bread but and the wine; + Before the morn at twall o'clock, 165 + They'll deal the same at mine." + + The tane was buried in Mary's kirk, + The tither in Mary's quire; + And out o' the tane there grew a birk, + And out o' the tither a brier. 170 + + And ay they grew, and ay they drew, + Untill they twa did meet; + And every ane that past them by, + Said, "Thae's been lovers sweet!" + +19. That is, my slumbers are short, broken, and interrupted. J. + +60. _Duplin town._ Duplin is the seat of the earl of Kinnoul, from +which he derives his title of viscount. It is in the neighborhood of +Perth. It is observable, that ballads are very frequently adapted to +the meridian of the place where they are found. J. + + + + +FAIR MARGARET AND SWEET WILLIAM. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 164. + + +"This seems to be the old song quoted in Fletcher's _Knight of the +Burning Pestle_, acts ii. and iii.; although the six lines there +preserved are somewhat different from those in the ballad, as it +stands at present. The reader will not wonder at this, when he is +informed that this is only given from a modern printed copy picked +up on a stall. Its full title is _Fair Margaret's misfortunes; or +Sweet William's frightful dreams on his wedding night, with the +sudden death and burial of those noble lovers_. + +"The lines preserved in the play are this distich: + + "You are no love for me, Margaret, + I am no love for you." Act iii. 5. + +And the following stanza: + + "When it was grown to dark midnight, + And all were fast asleep, + In came Margarets grimly ghost, + And stood at Williams feet. Act ii. 8. + +"These lines have acquired an importance by giving birth to one of +the most beautiful ballads in our own or any other language: +[Mallet's _Margaret's Ghost_.] + +"Since the first edition, some improvements have been inserted, +which were communicated by a lady of the first distinction, as she +had heard this song repeated in her infancy." + +The variations in Herd's copy, (i. 145,) and in Ritson's (_Ancient +Songs_, ii. 92,) are unimportant. + +In the main the same is the widely known ballad, _Der Ritter und das +Mägdlein_, Erk, p. 81, Hoffmann's _Schlesische Volkslieder_, p. 9; +_Herr Malmstens Dröm, Svenska Folkvisor_, iii. 104; Arwidsson, ii. +21; _Volkslieder der Wenden_, by Haupt and Schmaler, i. 159-162 +(Hoffmann); in Dutch, with a different close, Hoffmann's +_Niederländische Volkslieder_, p. 61: also _Lord Lovel_, _post_, p. +162. + + As it fell out on a long summer's day, + Two lovers they sat on a hill; + They sat together that long summer's day, + And could not talk their fill. + + "I see no harm by you, Margaret, 5 + And you see none by mee; + Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock + A rich wedding you shall see." + + Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window, + Combing her yellow hair; 10 + There she spyed sweet William and his bride, + As they were a riding near. + + Then down she layd her ivory combe, + And braided her hair in twain: + She went alive out of her bower, 15 + But ne'er came alive in't again. + + When day was gone, and night was come, + And all men fast asleep, + Then came the spirit of fair Marg'ret, + And stood at Williams feet. 20 + + "Are you awake, sweet William?" shee said,[L21] + "Or, sweet William, are you asleep? + God give you joy of your gay bride-bed, + And me of my winding-sheet." + + When day was come, and night 'twas gone, 25 + And all men wak'd from sleep, + Sweet William to his lady sayd, + "My dear, I have cause to weep. + + "I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye, + Such dreames are never good: 30 + I dreamt my bower was full of red swine, + And my bride-bed full of blood." + + "Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured sir, + They never do prove good; + To dream thy bower was full of red swine, 35 + And thy bride-bed full of blood." + + He called up his merry men all, + By one, by two, and by three; + Saying, "I'll away to fair Marg'ret's bower, + By the leave of my ladie." 40 + + And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower, + He knocked at the ring; + And who so ready as her seven brethren, + To let sweet William in. + + Then he turned up the covering-sheet; 45 + "Pray let me see the dead; + Methinks she looks all pale and wan, + She hath lost her cherry red. + + "I'll do more for thee, Margaret, + Than any of thy kin: 50 + For I will kiss thy pale wan lips, + Though a smile I cannot win." + + With that bespake the seven brethren, + Making most piteous mone, + "You may go kiss your jolly brown bride, 55 + And let our sister alone." + + "If I do kiss my jolly brown bride, + I do but what is right; + I neer made a vow to yonder poor corpse, + By day, nor yet by night. 60 + + "Deal on, deal on, my merry men all, + Deal on your cake and your wine:[L62] + For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day, + Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine." + + Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day, 65 + Sweet William dyed the morrow: + Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love, + Sweet William dyed for sorrow. + + Margaret was buryed in the lower chancel, + And William in the higher: 70 + Out of her brest there sprang a rose, + And out of his a briar. + + They grew till they grew unto the church top, + And then they could grow no higher; + And there they tyed in a true lovers knot, 75 + Which made all the people admire. + + Then came the clerk of the parish, + As you the truth shall hear, + And by misfortune cut them down, + Or they had now been there. 80 + +21-24. + + God give you joy, you lovers true, + In bride-bed fast asleep; + Lo! I am going to my green-grass grave, + And I'm in my winding sheet. HERD'S copy. + +62. Alluding to the dole anciently given at funerals. P. + + + + +SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST + + +As already remarked, is often made the sequel to other ballads. (See +_Clerk Saunders_, p. 45.) It was first printed in the fourth volume +of Ramsay's _Tea Table Miscellany_, with some imperfections, and +with two spurious stanzas for a conclusion. We subjoin to Ramsay's +copy the admirable version obtained by Motherwell from recitation, +and still another variation furnished by Kinloch. + +Closely similar in many respects are the Danish _Fæstemanden i +Graven (Aage og Else)_, Grundtvig, No. 90, and the Swedish _Sorgens +Magt_, _Svenska F. V._, i. 29, ii. 204, or Arwidsson, ii. 103. Also +_Der Todte Freier_, Erk's _Liederhort_, 24, 24 a. In the Danish and +Swedish ballads it is the uncontrolled grief of his mistress that +calls the lover from his grave: in the English, the desire to be +freed from his troth-plight.--See vol. i. p. 213, 217. + + There came a ghost to Margaret's door, + With many a grievous groan, + And ay he tirled at the pin, + But answer made she none. + + "Is that my father Philip, 5 + Or is't my brother John? + Or is't my true love Willy, + From Scotland new come home?" + + "Tis not thy father Philip, + Nor yet thy brother John; 10 + But 'tis thy true love Willy, + From Scotland new come home. + + "O sweet Margaret! O dear Margaret! + I pray thee speak to mee: + Give me my faith and troth, Margaret, 15 + As I gave it to thee." + + "Thy faith and troth thou's never get, + Nor yet will I thee lend, + Till that thou come within my bower, + And kiss my cheek and chin." 20 + + "If I should come within thy bower, + I am no earthly man: + And should I kiss thy rosy lips, + Thy days will not be lang. + + "O sweet Margaret, O dear Margaret, 25 + I pray thee speak to mee: + Give me my faith and troth, Margaret, + As I gave it to thee." + + "Thy faith and troth thou's never get, + Nor yet will I thee lend, 30 + Till you take me to yon kirk-yard, + And wed me with a ring." + + "My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard, + Afar beyond the sea, + And it is but my spirit, Margaret, 35 + That's now speaking to thee." + + She stretched out her lily-white hand, + And for to do her best; + "Hae there[L39] your faith and troth, Willy, + God send your soul good rest." 40 + + Now she has kilted her robes of green + A piece below her knee, + And a' the live-lang winter night + The dead corps followed she. + + "Is there any room at your head, Willy, 45 + Or any room at your feet? + Or any room at your side, Willy, + Wherein that I may creep?" + + "There's no room at my head, Margaret, + There's no room at my feet; 50 + There's no room at my side, Margaret, + My coffin's made so meet." + + Then up and crew the red red cock, + And up then crew the gray: + "Tis time, tis time, my dear Margaret, 55 + That you were going away." + + No more the ghost to Margaret said, + But, with a grievous groan, + Evanish'd in a cloud of mist, + And left her all alone. 60 + + "O stay, my only true love, stay," + The constant Margaret cried: + Wan grew her cheeks, she closed her een, + Stretch'd her soft limbs, and died. + +39. ther's. + + + + +WILLIAM AND MARJORIE. + + Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 186. + + + Lady Marjorie, Lady Marjorie, + Sat sewing her silken seam, + And by her came a pale, pale ghost, + Wi' mony a sigh and mane. + + "Are ye my father the king?" she says, 5 + "Or are ye my brither John? + Or are ye my true love, sweet William, + From England newly come?" + + "I'm not your father the king," he says, + "No, no, nor your brither John; 10 + But I'm your true love, sweet William, + From England that's newly come." + + "Have ye brought me any scarlets sae red, + Or any of the silks sae fine; + Or have ye brought me any precious things, 15 + That merchants have for sale?" + + "I have not brought you any scarlets sae red, + No, no, nor the silks sae fine; + But I have brought you my winding-sheet + Ower many a rock and hill. 20 + + "Lady Marjorie, Lady Marjorie, + For faith and charitie, + Will ye gie to me my faith and troth, + That I gave once to thee?" + + "O your faith and troth I'll not gie to thee, 25 + No, no, that will not I, + Until I get ae kiss of your ruby lips, + And in my arms you lye." + + "My lips they are sae bitter," he says, + "My breath it is sae strang, 30 + If you get ae kiss of my ruby lips, + Your days will not be lang. + + "The cocks are crawing, Marjorie," he says,-- + "The cocks are crawing again; + It's time the dead should part the quick,-- 35 + Marjorie, I must be gane." + + She followed him high, she followed him low, + Till she came to yon churchyard green; + And there the deep grave opened up, + And young William he lay down. 40 + + "What three things are these, sweet William," she says, + "That stand here at your head?" + "O it's three maidens, Marjorie," he says, + "That I promised once to wed." + + "What three things are these, sweet William," she says, 45 + "That stand close at your side?" + "O it's three babes, Marjorie," he says, + "That these three maidens had." + + "What three things are these, sweet William," she says, + "That lye close at your feet?" 50 + "O it's three hell-hounds, Marjorie," he says, + "That's waiting my soul to keep." + + O she took up her white, white hand, + And she struck him on the breast, + Saying,--"Have there again your faith and troth, 55 + And I wish your saul gude rest." + + + + +SWEET WILLIAM AND MAY MARGARET. + + Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 241. + + + As May Marg'ret sat in her bouerie, + In her bouer all alone, + At the very parting o' midnicht, + She heard a mournfu' moan. + + "O is it my father, O is it my mother, 5 + Or is it my brother John? + Or is it sweet William, my ain true love, + To Scotland new come home?" + + "It is na your father, it is na your mother, + It is na your brother John; 10 + But it is sweet William, your ain true love, + To Scotland new come home."-- + + "Hae ye brought me onie fine things, + Onie new thing for to wear? + Or hae ye brought me a braid o' lace, 15 + To snood up my gowden hair?" + + "I've brought ye na fine things at all, + Nor onie new thing to wear, + Nor hae I brought ye a braid of lace, + To snood up your gowden hair. 20 + + "But Margaret, dear Margaret, + I pray ye speak to me; + O gie me back my faith and troth, + As dear as I gied it thee!" + + "Your faith and troth ye sanna get, 25 + Nor will I wi' ye twin, + Till ye come within my bower, + And kiss me, cheek and chin." + + "O Margaret, dear Margaret, + I pray ye speak to me; 30 + O gie me back my faith and troth, + As dear as I gied it thee." + + "Your faith and troth ye sanna get, + Nor will I wi' ye twin, + Till ye tak me to yonder kirk, 35 + And wed me wi' a ring." + + "O should I come within your bouer, + I am na earthly man: + If I should kiss your red, red lips, + Your days wad na be lang. 40 + + "My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard, + It's far ayont the sea; + And it is my spirit, Margaret, + That's speaking unto thee." + + "Your faith and troth ye sanna get, 45 + Nor will I twin wi' thee, + Tell ye tell me the pleasures o' Heaven, + And pains of hell how they be." + + "The pleasures of heaven I wat not of, + But the pains of hell I dree; 50 + There some are hie hang'd for huring, + And some for adulterie." + + Then Marg'ret took her milk-white hand, + And smooth'd it on his breast;-- + "Tak your faith and troth, William, 55 + God send your soul good rest!" + + + + +BONNY BARBARA ALLAN + + +Was first published in Ramsay's _Tea-Table Miscellany_, (ii. 171,) +from which it is transferred verbatim into Herd's _Scottish Songs_, +Johnson's _Museum_, Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, &c. Percy printed it, +"with a few conjectural emendations, from a written copy," +_Reliques_, iii. 175, together with another version, which follows +the present. Mr. G. F. Graham, _Songs of Scotland_, ii. 157, has +pointed out an allusion to the "little Scotch Song of _Barbary +Allen_," in Pepys's _Diary_, 2 Jan. 1665-6. + + It was in and about the Martinmas time, + When the green leaves were a falling, + That Sir John Graeme in the west country + Fell in love with Barbara Allan. + + He sent his man down through the town, 5 + To the place where she was dwelling; + "O haste and come to my master dear, + Gin ye be Barbara Allan." + + O hooly, hooly rose she up, + To the place where he was lying, 10 + And when she drew the curtain by, + "Young man, I think you're dying." + + "O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick, + And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan:" + "O the better for me ye's never be, 15 + Tho' your heart's blood were a spilling. + + "O dinna ye mind, young man," said she, + "When ye was in the tavern a drinking, + That ye made the healths gae round and round, + And slighted Barbara Allan." 20 + + He turn'd his face unto the wall, + And death was with him dealing; + "Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, + And be kind to Barbara Allan." + + And slowly, slowly raise she up, 25 + And slowly, slowly left him; + And sighing said, she cou'd not stay, + Since death of life had reft him. + + She had not gane a mile but twa, + When she heard the dead-bell ringing, 30 + And every jow that the dead-bell geid, + It cry'd "Woe to Barbara Allan!" + + "O mother, mother, make my bed, + O make it saft and narrow; + Since my love died for me today, 35 + I'll die for him tomorrow." + + + + +BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 169. + + +"Given, with some corrections, from an old blackletter copy, +entitled, _Barbara Allen's Cruelty, or the Young Man's Tragedy_." + + In Scarlet towne, where I was borne, + There was a faire maid dwellin, + Made every youth crye, Wel-awaye! + Her name was Barbara Allen. + + All in the merrye month of May, 5 + When greene buds they were swellin, + Yong Jemmye Grove on his death-bed lay, + For love of Barbara Allen. + + He sent his man unto her then, + To the towne where shee was dwellin; 10 + "You must come to my master deare, + Giff your name be Barbara Allen. + + "For death is printed on his face, + And ore his hart is stealin: + Then haste away to comfort him, 15 + O lovelye Barbara Allen." + + "Though death be printed on his face, + And ore his harte is stealin, + Yet little better shall he bee + For bonny Barbara Allen." 20 + + So slowly, slowly, she came up, + And slowly she came nye him; + And all she sayd, when there she came, + "Yong man, I think y'are dying." + + He turned his face unto her strait, 25 + With deadlye sorrow sighing; + "O lovely maid, come pity mee, + I'me on my death-bed lying." + + "If on your death-bed you doe lye, + What needs the tale you are tellin? 30 + I cannot keep you from your death; + Farewell," sayd Barbara Allen. + + He turnd his face unto the wall, + As deadlye pangs he fell in: + "Adieu! adieu! adieu to you all, 35 + Adieu to Barbara Allen!" + + As she was walking ore the fields, + She heard the bell a knellin; + And every stroke did seem to saye, + "Unworthy Barbara Allen!" 40 + + She turnd her bodye round about, + And spied the corps a coming: + "Laye down, laye down the corps," she sayd, + "That I may look upon him." + + With scornful eye she looked downe, 45 + Her cheeke with laughter swellin, + Whilst all her friends cryd out amaine, + "Unworthye Barbara Allen!" + + When he was dead, and laid in grave, + Her harte was struck with sorrowe; 50 + "O mother, mother, make my bed, + For I shall dye to-morrowe. + + "Hard-harted creature him to slight, + Who loved me so dearlye: + O that I had beene more kind to him, 55 + When he was alive and neare me!" + + She, on her death-bed as she laye, + Beg'd to be buried by him, + And sore repented of the daye, + That she did ere denye him. 60 + + "Farewell," she sayd, "ye virgins all, + And shun the fault I fell in: + Henceforth take warning by the fall + Of cruel Barbara Allen." + + + + +LORD LOVEL. + + +"This ballad, taken down from the recitation of a lady in +Roxburghshire, appears to claim affinity to Border Song; and the +title of the 'discourteous squire', would incline one to suppose +that it has derived its origin from some circumstance connected with +the county of Northumberland, where Lovel was anciently a well-known +name." Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 31. + +A version from a recent broadside is printed in _Ancient Poems, +Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England_, Percy Society, vol. +xvii. p. 78. + +A fragment of a similar story, the relations of the parties being +reversed, is _Lady Alice_, given in Bell's Ballads of the Peasantry, +p. 127, and _Notes and Queries_, 2d S, i. 418.--Compare also _Fair +Margaret_, &c. p. 140. + + Lord Lovel stands at his stable door, + Mounted upon a grey steed; + And bye came Ladie Nanciebel, + And wish'd Lord Lovel much speed. + + "O whare are ye going, Lord Lovel, 5 + My dearest tell to me?" + "O I am going a far journey, + Some strange countrie to see; + + "But I'll return in seven long years, + Lady Nanciebel to see." 10 + "O seven, seven, seven long years, + They are much too long for me." + + * * * * * * * + + He was gane a year away, + A year but barely ane, + When a strange fancy cam into his head, 15 + That fair Nanciebel was gane. + + It's then he rade, and better rade, + Until he cam to the toun, + And then he heard a dismal noise, + For the church bells a' did soun'. 20 + + He asked what the bells rang for; + They said, "It's for Nanciebel; + She died for a discourteous squire, + And his name is Lord Lovel." + + The lid o' the coffin he opened up, 25 + The linens he faulded doun; + And ae he kiss'd her pale, pale lips, + And the tears cam trinkling doun. + + "Weill may I kiss those pale, pale lips, + For they will never kiss me;-- 30 + I'll mak a vow, and keep it true, + That they'll ne'er kiss ane but thee." + + Lady Nancie died on Tuesday's nicht, + Lord Lovel upon the niest day; + Lady Nancie died for pure, pure love, 35 + Lord Lovel, for deep sorray. + + + + +LORD SALTON AND AUCHANACHIE. + + +The following fragment was first published in Maidment's _North +Countrie Garland_, p. 10; shortly after, in Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. +161. A more complete copy, from Buchan's larger collection, is +annexed. + + * * * * * * + + Ben came her father, + Skipping on the floor, + Said, "Jeanie, you're trying + The tricks of a whore. + + "You're caring for him 5 + That cares not for thee, + And I pray you take Salton, + Let Auchanachie be." + + "I will not have Salton, + It lies low by the sea; 10 + He is bowed in the back, + He's thrawen in the knee; + And I'll die if I get not + My brave Auchanachie." + + "I am bowed in the back, 15 + Lassie as ye see, + But the bonny lands of Salton + Are no crooked tee." + + And when she was married + She would not lie down, 20 + But they took out a knife, + And cuttit her gown; + + Likewise of her stays + The lacing in three, + And now she lies dead 25 + For her Auchanachie. + + Out comes her bower-woman, + Wringing her hands, + Says, "Alas for the staying + So long on the sands! 30 + + "Alas for the staying + So long on the flood! + For Jeanie was married, + And now she is dead." + + + + +LORD SALTON AND AUCHANACHIE. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 133. + + + "Auchanachie Gordon is bonny and braw, + He would tempt any woman that ever he saw; + He would tempt any woman, so has he tempted me, + And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie." + + In came her father, tripping on the floor, 5 + Says, "Jeanie, ye're trying the tricks o' a whore; + Ye're caring for them that cares little for thee, + Ye must marry Salton, leave Auchanachie. + + "Auchanachie Gordon, he is but a man, + Altho' he be pretty, where lies his free land? 10 + Salton's lands they lie broad, his towers they stand hie, + Ye must marry Salton, leave Auchanachie. + + "Salton will gar you wear silk gowns fring'd to thy knee, + But ye'll never wear that wi' your love Auchanachie." + "Wi' Auchanachie Gordon I would beg my bread, 15 + Before that wi' Salton I'd wear gowd on my head; + + "Wear gowd on my head, or gowns fring'd to the knee, + And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie; + O Salton's valley lies low by the sea, + He's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee." 20 + + "O Salton's a valley lies low by the sea; + Though he's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee, + Though he's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee, + The bonny rigs of Salton they're nae thrawin tee." + + "O you that are my parents to church may me bring, 25 + But unto young Salton I'll never bear a son; + For son, or for daughter, I'll ne'er bow my knee, + And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie." + + When Jeanie was married, from church was brought hame, + When she wi' her maidens sae merry shou'd hae been, 30 + When she wi' her maidens sae merry shou'd hae been, + She's called for a chamber to weep there her lane. + + "Come to your bed, Jeanie, my honey and my sweet, + For to stile you mistress I do not think it meet." + "Mistress, or Jeanie, it is a' ane to me, 35 + It's in your bed, Salton, I never will be." + + Then out spake her father, he spake wi' renown, + "Some of you that are maidens, ye'll loose aff her gown; + Some of you that are maidens, ye'll loose aff her gown, + And I'll mend the marriage wi' ten thousand crowns." 40 + + Then ane of her maidens they loosed aff her gown, + But bonny Jeanie Gordon, she fell in a swoon; + She fell in a swoon low down by their knee; + Says, "Look on, I die for my love Auchanachie!" + + That very same day Miss Jeanie did die, 45 + And hame came Auchanachie, hame frae the sea; + Her father and mither welcom'd him at the gate; + He said, "Where's Miss Jeanie, that she's nae here yet?" + + Then forth came her maidens, all wringing their hands, + Saying, "Alas! for your staying sae lang frae the land: 50 + Sae lang frae the land, and sae lang fra the fleed, + They've wedded your Jeanie, and now she is dead!" + + "Some of you, her maidens, take me by the hand, + And show me the chamber Miss Jeanie died in;" + He kiss'd her cold lips, which were colder than stane, 55 + And he died in the chamber that Jeanie died in. + + + + +WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET. + + +A fragment obtained by Jamieson from the recitation of Mrs. Brown, +of Falkland. _Popular Ballads_, i. 135. In connection with this we +give the complete story from Buchan. Aytoun has changed the title to +_The Mother's Malison_. An Italian ballad, containing a story +similar to that of this ballad and the two following (but of +independent origin), is _La Maledizione Materna_, in Marcoaldi's +_Canti Popolari_, p. 170. + + "Gie corn to my horse, mither; + Gie meat unto my man; + For I maun gang to Margaret's bower, + Before the nicht comes on." + + "O stay at hame now, my son Willie! 5 + The wind blaws cald and sour; + The nicht will be baith mirk and late, + Before ye reach her bower." + + "O tho' the nicht were ever sae dark, + Or the wind blew never sae cald, 10 + I will be in my Margaret's bower + Before twa hours be tald." + + "O gin ye gang to May Margaret, + Without the leave of me, + Clyde's water's wide and deep enough;-- 15 + My malison drown thee!" + + He mounted on his coal-black steed, + And fast he rade awa'; + But, ere he came to Clyde's water, + Fu' loud the wind did blaw. 20 + + As he rode o'er yon hich, hich hill, + And down yon dowie den, + There was a roar in Clyde's water + Wad fear'd a hunder men. + + His heart was warm, his pride was up; 25 + Sweet Willie kentna fear; + But yet his mither's malison + Ay sounded in his ear. + + O he has swam through Clyde's water, + Tho' it was wide and deep; 30 + And he came to May Margaret's door, + When a' were fast asleep. + + O he's gane round and round about, + And tirled at the pin; + But doors were steek'd, and window's bar'd, 35 + And nane wad let him in. + + "O open the door to me, Margaret,-- + O open and lat me in! + For my boots are full o' Clyde's water, + And frozen to the brim." 40 + + "I darena open the door to you, + Nor darena lat you in; + For my mither she is fast asleep, + And I darena mak nae din." + + "O gin ye winna open the door, 45 + Nor yet be kind to me, + Now tell me o' some out-chamber, + Where I this nicht may be." + + "Ye canna win in this nicht, Willie, + Nor here ye canna be; 50 + For I've nae chambers out nor in, + Nae ane but barely three: + + "The tane o' them is fu' o' corn, + The tither is fu' o' hay; + The tither is fu' o' merry young men;-- 55 + They winna remove till day." + + "O fare ye weel, then, May Margaret, + Sin better manna be; + I've win my mither's malison, + Coming this nicht to thee." 60 + + He's mounted on his coal-black steed,-- + O but his heart was wae! + But, ere he came to Clyde's water, + 'Twas half up o'er the brae. + + * * * * * * * + + ---- he plunged in, + But never raise again. + + + + +THE DROWNED LOVERS. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 140. The copy +in the Appendix to Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. iii., is nearly the +same. + + + Willie stands in his stable door, + And clapping at his steed; + And looking o'er his white fingers, + His nose began to bleed. + + "Gie corn to my horse, mother; 5 + And meat to my young man; + And I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, + I'll win ere she lie down." + + "O bide this night wi' me, Willie, + O bide this night wi' me; 10 + The best an' cock o' a' the reest, + At your supper shall be. + + "A' your cocks, and a' your reests, + I value not a prin; + For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, 15 + I'll win ere she lie down." + + "Stay this night wi' me, Willie, + O stay this night wi' me; + The best an' sheep in a' the flock + At your supper shall be." 20 + + "A' your sheep, and a' your flocks, + I value not a prin; + For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, + I'll win ere she lie down." + + "O an' ye gang to Meggie's bower, 25 + Sae sair against my will, + The deepest pot in Clyde's water, + My malison ye's feel." + + "The guid steed that I ride upon + Cost me thrice thretty pound; 30 + And I'll put trust in his swift feet, + To hae me safe to land." + + As he rade ower yon high, high hill, + And down yon dowie den, + The noise that was in Clyde's water 35 + Wou'd fear'd five huner men. + + "O roaring Clyde, ye roar ower loud, + Your streams seem wond'rous strang; + Make me your wreck as I come back,[L39] + But spare me as I gang." 40 + + Then he is on to Meggie's bower, + And tirled at the pin; + "O sleep ye, wake ye, Meggie," he said, + "Ye'll open, lat me come in." + + "O wha is this at my bower door, 45 + That calls me by my name?" + "It is your first love, sweet Willie, + This night newly come hame." + + "I hae few lovers thereout, thereout, + As few hae I therein; 50 + The best an' love that ever I had, + Was here just late yestreen." + + "The warstan stable in a' your stables, + For my puir steed to stand; + The warstan bower in a' your bowers, 55 + For me to lie therein: + My boots are fu' o' Clyde's water, + I'm shivering at the chin." + + "My barns are fu' o' corn, Willie, + My stables are fu' o' hay; 60 + My bowers are fu' o' gentlemen;-- + They'll nae remove till day." + + "O fare-ye-well, my fause Meggie, + O farewell, and adieu; + I've gotten my mither's malison, 65 + This night coming to you." + + As he rode ower yon high, high hill, + And down yon dowie den; + The rushing that was in Clyde's water + Took Willie's cane frae him. 70 + + He lean'd him ower his saddle bow, + To catch his cane again; + The rushing that was in Clyde's water + Took Willie's hat frae him. + + He lean'd him ower his saddle bow, 75 + To catch his hat thro' force; + The rushing that was in Clyde's water + Took Willie frae his horse. + + His brither stood upo' the bank, + Says, "Fye, man, will ye drown? 80 + Ye'll turn ye to your high horse head, + And learn how to sowm." + + "How can I turn to my horse head, + And learn how to sowm? + I've gotten my mither's malison, 85 + Its here that I maun drown!" + + The very hour this young man sank + Into the pot sae deep, + Up it waken'd his love, Meggie, + Out o' her drowsy sleep. 90 + + "Come here, come here, my mither dear, + And read this dreary dream; + I dream'd my love was at our gates, + And nane wad let him in." + + "Lye still, lye still now, my Meggie. 95 + Lye still and tak your rest; + Sin' your true love was at your yates, + It's but twa quarters past." + + Nimbly, nimbly raise she up, + And nimbly pat she on; 100 + And the higher that the lady cried, + The louder blew the win'. + + The first an' step that she stepp'd in, + She stepped to the queet; + "Ohon, alas!" said that lady, 105 + "This water's wond'rous deep." + + The next an' step that she wade in, + She wadit to the knee; + Says she, "I cou'd wide farther in, + If I my love cou'd see." 110 + + The next an' step that she wade in, + She wadit to the chin; + The deepest pot in Clyde's water + She got sweet Willie in. + + "You've had a cruel mither, Willie, 115 + And I have had anither; + But we shall sleep in Clyde's water, + Like sister an' like brither." + +39, 40. Found also in _Leander on the Bay_, and taken from the +epigram of Martial: + + "Clamabat tumidis audax Leander in undis, + Mergite me fluctus, cum rediturus ero." + + + + +WILLIE'S DROWNED IN GAMERY. + + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 245. A +fragment, exhibiting some differences, is among those ballads of +Buchan which are published in the Percy Society's volumes, xvii. 66. +Four stanzas, of a superior cast, upon the same story, are printed +in the _Tea-Table Miscellany_, (ii. 141.) + + _Rare Willy drown'd in Yarrow._ + + "Willy's rare, and Willy's fair, + And Willy's wond'rous bonny; + And Willy heght to marry me, + Gin e'er he married ony. + + "Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid, + This night I'll make it narrow; + For a' the livelang winter night + I ly twin'd of my marrow. + + "O came you by yon water-side? + Pou'd you the rose or lilly? + Or came you by yon meadow green? + Or saw you my sweet Willy?" + + She sought him east, she sought him west, + She sought him braid and narrow; + Syne in the cleaving of a craig, + She found him drown'd in Yarrow. + +These stanzas furnished the theme to Logan's _Braes of Yarrow_. + + + "O Willie is fair, and Willie is rare, + And Willie is wond'rous bonny; + And Willie says he'll marry me, + Gin ever he marry ony." + + "O ye'se get James, or ye'se get George, 5 + Or ye's get bonny Johnnie; + Ye'se get the flower o' a' my sons, + Gin ye'll forsake my Willie." + + "O what care I for James or George, + Or yet for bonny Peter? 10 + I dinna value their love a leek, + An' I getna Willie the writer." + + "O Willie has a bonny hand, + And dear but it is bonny;" + "He has nae mair for a' his land; 15 + What wou'd ye do wi' Willie?" + + "O Willie has a bonny face, + And dear but it is bonny;" + "But Willie has nae other grace; + What wou'd ye do wi' Willie?" 20 + + "Willie's fair, and Willie's rare, + And Willie's wond'rous bonny; + There's nane wi' him that can compare, + I love him best of ony." + + On Wednesday, that fatal day, 25 + The people were convening; + Besides all this, threescore and ten, + To gang to the bridesteel wi' him. + + "Ride on, ride on, my merry men a', + I've forgot something behind me; 30 + I've forgot to get my mother's blessing, + To gae to the bridesteel wi' me." + + "Your Peggy she's but bare fifteen, + And ye are scarcely twenty; + The water o' Gamery is wide and braid, 35 + My heavy curse gang wi' thee!" + + Then they rode on, and further on, + Till they came on to Gamery; + The wind was loud, the stream was proud, + And wi' the stream gaed Willie. 40 + + Then they rode on, and further on, + Till they came to the kirk o' Gamery; + And every one on high horse sat, + But Willie's horse rade toomly. + + When they were settled at that place, 45 + The people fell a mourning; + And a council held amo' them a', + But sair, sair wept Kinmundy. + + Then out it speaks the bride hersell, + Says, "What means a' this mourning? 50 + Where is the man amo' them a', + That shou'd gie me fair wedding?" + + Then out it speaks his brother John, + Says, "Meg, I'll tell you plainly; + The stream was strong, the clerk rade wrong, 55 + And Willie's drown'd in Gamery." + + She put her hand up to her head, + Where were the ribbons many; + She rave them a', let them down fa', + And straightway ran to Gamery. 60 + + She sought it up, she sought it down, + Till she was wet and weary; + And in the middle part o' it, + There she got her deary. + + Then she stroak'd back his yellow hair, 65 + And kiss'd his mou' sae comely; + "My mother's heart's be as wae as thine; + We'se baith asleep in the water o' Gamery." + + + + +ANNAN WATER. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 282. + + +"The following verses are the original words of the tune of _Allan +Water_, by which name the song is mentioned in Ramsay's _Tea-Table +Miscellany_. The ballad is given from tradition; and it is said that +a bridge over the Annan, was built in consequence of the melancholy +catastrophe which it narrates. Two verses are added in this edition, +from another copy of the ballad, in which the conclusion proves +fortunate. By the _Gatehope-Slack_, is perhaps meant the +_Gate-Slack_, a pass in Annandale. The Annan, and the Frith of +Solway, into which it falls, are the frequent scenes of tragical +accidents. The Editor trusts he will be pardoned for inserting the +following awfully impressive account of such an event, contained in +a letter from Dr. Currie, of Liverpool, by whose correspondence, +while in the course of preparing these volumes for the press, he has +been alike honoured and instructed. After stating that he had some +recollection of the ballad which follows, the biographer of Burns +proceeds thus:--'I once in my early days heard (for it was night, +and I could not see) a traveller drowning; not in the Annan itself, +but in the Frith of Solway, close by the mouth of that river. The +influx of the tide had unhorsed him, in the night, as he was passing +the sands from Cumberland. The west wind blew a tempest, and, +according to the common expression, brought in the water _three foot +a-breast_. The traveller got upon a standing net, a little way from +the shore. There he lashed himself to the post, shouting for half an +hour for assistance--till the tide rose over his head! In the +darkness of the night, and amid the pauses of the hurricane, his +voice, heard at intervals, was exquisitely mournful. No one could go +to his assistance--no one knew where he was--the sound seemed to +proceed from the spirit of the waters. But morning rose--the tide +had ebbed--and the poor traveller was found lashed to the pole of +the net, and bleaching in the wind.'" + + SCOTT. + + "Annan water's wading deep, + And my love Annie's wondrous bonny; + And I am laith she suld weet her feet, + Because I love her best of ony. + + "Gar saddle me the bonny black, 5 + Gar saddle sune, and make him ready; + For I will down the Gatehope-Slack, + And all to see my bonny ladye."-- + + He has loupen on the bonny black, + He stirr'd him wi' the spur right sairly; 10 + But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack, + I think the steed was wae and weary. + + He has loupen on the bonny grey, + He rade the right gate and the ready; + I trow he would neither stint nor stay, 15 + For he was seeking his bonny ladye. + + O he has ridden o'er field and fell, + Through muir and moss, and mony a mire: + His spurs o' steel were sair to bide, + And fra her fore-feet flew the fire. 20 + + "Now, bonny grey, now play your part! + Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary, + Wi' corn and hay ye'se be fed for aye, + And never spur sall make you wearie."-- + + The grey was a mare, and a right good mare; 25 + But when she wan the Annan water, + She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair, + Had a thousand merks been wadded at her. + + "O boatman, boatman, put off your boat! + Put off your boat for gowden money! 30 + I cross the drumly stream the night, + Or never mair I see my honey."-- + + "O I was sworn sae late yestreen, + And not by ae aith, but by many; + And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland, 35 + I dare na take ye through to Annie." + + The side was stey, and the bottom deep, + Frae bank to brae the water pouring; + And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear, + For she heard the water-kelpy roaring. 40 + + O he has pou'd aff his dapperby coat, + The silver buttons glanced bonny; + The waistcoat bursted aff his breast, + He was sae full of melancholy. + + He has ta'en the ford at that stream tail; 45 + I wot he swam both strong and steady; + But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail, + And he never saw his bonny ladye! + + "O wae betide the frush saugh wand! + And wae betide the bush of brier! 50 + It brake into my true love's hand, + When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire. + + "And wae betide ye, Annan Water, + This night that ye are a drumlie river! + For over thee I'll build a bridge, 55 + That ye never more true love may sever."-- + + + + +ANDREW LAMMIE. + + +"From a stall copy published at Glasgow several years ago, collated +with a recited copy, which has furnished one or two verbal +improvements." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 239. + +Mr. Jamieson has published two other sets of this simple, but +touching ditty, (i. 126, ii. 382,) one of which is placed after the +present. Motherwell's text is almost verbatim that of Buchan's +_Gleanings_, p. 98. The _Thistle of Scotland_ copies Buchan and +Jamieson without acknowledgment. + +The story has been made the foundation of a rude drama in the North +of Scotland. For a description of similar entertainments, see +Cunningham's Introduction to his _Songs of Scotland_, i. 148. + +The unfortunate maiden's name, according to Buchan, (_Gleanings_, p. +197,) "was Annie, or Agnes, (which are synonymous in some parts of +Scotland,) Smith, who died of a broken heart on the 9th of January, +1631, as is to be found on a roughly cut stone, broken in many +pieces, in the green churchyard of Fyvie." "What afterwards became +of Bonny Andrew Lammie," says Jamieson, "we have not been able to +learn; but the current tradition of the 'Lawland leas of Fyvie', +says, that some years subsequent to the melancholy fate of poor +Tifty's Nanny, her sad story being mentioned, and the ballad sung in +a company in Edinburgh when he was present, he remained silent and +motionless, till he was discovered by a groan suddenly bursting from +him, and _several of the buttons flying from his waistcoat_." + + At Mill o' Tifty liv'd a man, + In the neighbourhood of Fyvie; + He had a lovely daughter fair, + Was called bonny Annie. + + Her bloom was like the springing flower 5 + That salutes the rosy morning; + With innocence and graceful mien + Her beauteous form adorning. + + Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter + Whose name was Andrew Lammie; 10 + He had the art to gain the heart + Of Mill o' Tiftie's Annie. + + Proper he was, both young and gay, + His like was not in Fyvie; + No one was there that could compare 15 + With this same Andrew Lammie. + + Lord Fyvie he rode by the door, + Where lived Tiftie's Annie; + His trumpeter rode him before, + Even this same Andrew Lammie. 20 + + Her mother call'd her to the door: + "Come here to me, my Annie; + Did you ever see a prettier man + Than this Trumpeter of Fyvie?" + + She sighed sore, but said no more, 25 + Alas, for bonny Annie! + She durst not own her heart was won + By the Trumpeter of Fyvie. + + At night when they went to their beds, + All slept full sound but Annie; 30 + Love so opprest her tender breast, + Thinking on Andrew Lammie. + + "Love comes in at my bed side, + And love lies down beyond me; + Love has possess'd my tender breast, 35 + And love will waste my body. + + "The first time I and my love met + Was in the woods of Fyvie; + His lovely form and speech so sweet + Soon gain'd the heart of Annie. 40 + + "He called me mistress; I said, No, + I'm Tiftie's bonny Annie; + With apples sweet he did me treat, + And kisses soft and many. + + "It's up and down in Tiftie's den, 45 + Where the burn runs clear and bonny, + I've often gone to meet my love, + My bonny Andrew Lammie." + + But now, alas! her father heard + That the Trumpeter of Fyvie 50 + Had had the art to gain the heart + Of Tiftie's bonny Annie. + + Her father soon a letter wrote, + And sent it on to Fyvie, + To tell his daughter was bewitch'd 55 + By his servant Andrew Lammie. + + When Lord Fyvie had this letter read, + O dear! but he was sorry; + The bonniest lass in Fyvie's land + Is bewitched by Andrew Lammie. 60 + + Then up the stair his trumpeter + He called soon and shortly: + "Pray tell me soon, what's this you've done + To Tiftie's bonny Annie?" + + "In wicked art I had no part, 65 + Nor therein am I canny; + True love alone the heart has won + Of Tiftie's bonny Annie. + + "Woe betide Mill o' Tiftie's pride, + For it has ruin'd many; 70 + He'll no ha'e 't said that she should wed + The Trumpeter of Fyvie. + + "Where will I find a boy so kind, + That'll carry a letter canny, + Who will run on to Tiftie's town, 75 + Give it to my love Annie?" + + "Here you shall find a boy so kind, + Who'll carry a letter canny, + Who will run on to Tiftie's town, + And gi'e 't to thy love Annie." 80 + + "It's Tiftie he has daughters three, + Who all are wondrous bonny; + But ye'll ken her o'er a' the lave, + Gi'e that to bonny Annie." + + "It's up and down in Tiftie's den, 85 + Where the burn runs clear and bonny; + There wilt thou come and meet thy love, + Thy bonny Andrew Lammie. + + "When wilt thou come, and I'll attend? + My love, I long to see thee." 90 + "Thou may'st come to the bridge of Sleugh, + And there I'll come and meet thee." + + "My love, I go to Edinbro', + And for a while must leave thee;" + She sighed sore, and said no more 95 + But "I wish that I were wi' thee." + + "I'll buy to thee a bridal gown, + My love, I'll buy it bonny;" + "But I'll be dead, ere ye come back + To see your bonnie Annie." 100 + + "If you'll be true and constant too, + As my name's Andrew Lammie, + I shall thee wed, when I come back + To see the lands of Fyvie." + + "I will be true, and constant too, 105 + To thee, my Andrew Lammie; + But my bridal bed will ere then be made, + In the green churchyard of Fyvie." + + "Our time is gone, and now comes on, + My dear, that I must leave thee; 110 + If longer here I should appear, + Mill o' Tiftie he would see me." + + "I now for ever bid adieu + To thee, my Andrew Lammie; + Ere ye come back, I will be laid 115 + In the green churchyard of Fyvie." + + He hied him to the head of the house, + To the house top of Fyvie; + He blew his trumpet loud and schill; + 'Twas heard at Mill o' Tiftie. 120 + + Her father lock'd the door at night, + Laid by the keys fu' canny; + And when he heard the trumpet sound, + Said, "Your cow is lowing, Annie." + + "My father dear, I pray forbear, 125 + And reproach no more your Annie; + For I'd rather hear that cow to low, + Than ha'e a' the kine in Fyvie. + + "I would not, for my braw new gown, + And a' your gifts sae many, 130 + That it were told in Fyvie's land + How cruel you are to Annie. + + "But if ye strike me, I will cry, + And gentlemen will hear me; + Lord Fyvie will be riding by, 135 + And he'll come in and see me." + + At the same time, the Lord came in; + He said, "What ails thee, Annie?" + "'Tis all for love now I must die, + For bonny Andrew Lammie." 140 + + "Pray, Mill o' Tifty, gi'e consent, + And let your daughter marry." + "It will be with some higher match + Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie." + + "If she were come of as high a kind 145 + As she's adorned with beauty, + I would take her unto myself, + And make her mine own lady." + + "It's Fyvie's lands are fair and wide, + And they are rich and bonny; 150 + I would not leave my own true love, + For all the lands of Fyvie." + + Her father struck her wondrous sore, + And also did her mother; + Her sisters always did her scorn; 155 + But woe be to her brother! + + Her brother struck her wondrous sore, + With cruel strokes and many; + He brake her back in the hall door, + For liking Andrew Lammie. 160 + + "Alas! my father and mother dear, + Why so cruel to your Annie? + My heart was broken first by love, + My brother has broken my body. + + "O mother dear, make ye my bed, 165 + And lay my face to Fyvie; + Thus will I ly, and thus will die, + For my love, Andrew Lammie! + + "Ye neighbours, hear, both far and near; + Ye pity Tiftie's Annie, 170 + Who dies for love of one poor lad, + For bonny Andrew Lammie. + + "No kind of vice e'er stain'd my life, + Nor hurt my virgin honour; + My youthful heart was won by love, 175 + But death will me exoner." + + Her mother then she made her bed, + And laid her face to Fyvie; + Her tender heart it soon did break, + And ne'er saw Andrew Lammie. 180 + + But the word soon went up and down, + Through all the lands of Fyvie, + That she was dead and buried, + Even Tiftie's bonny Annie. + + Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands, 185 + Said, "Alas, for Tiftie's Annie! + The fairest flower's cut down by love, + That e'er sprung up in Fyvie. + + "O woe betide Mill o' Tiftie's pride! + He might have let them marry; 190 + I should have giv'n them both to live + Into the lands of Fyvie." + + Her father sorely now laments + The loss of his dear Annie, + And wishes he had gi'en consent 195 + To wed with Andrew Lammie. + + Her mother grieves both air and late; + Her sisters, 'cause they scorn'd her; + Surely her brother doth mourn and grieve, + For the cruel usage he'd giv'n her. 200 + + But now, alas! it was too late, + For they could not recal her; + Through life, unhappy is their fate, + Because they did controul her. + + When Andrew hame from Edinburgh came, 205 + With meikle grief and sorrow, + "My love has died for me to-day, + I'll die for her to-morrow. + + "Now I will on to Tiftie's den, + Where the burn runs clear and bonny; 210 + With tears I'll view the bridge of Sleugh,[L211] + Where I parted last with Annie. + + "Then will I speed to the churchyard, + To the green churchyard of Fyvie; + With tears I'll water my love's grave, 215 + Till I follow Tiftie's Annie." + + Ye parents grave, who children have, + In crushing them be canny, + Lest when too late you do repent; + Remember Tiftie's Annie. 220 + +211. "In one printed copy this is 'Sheugh', and in a recited copy +it was called 'Skew'; which is the right reading, the editor, from +his ignorance of the topography of the lands of Fyvie, is unable to +say. It is a received superstition in Scotland, that, when friends +or lovers part at a bridge, they shall never again meet." +MOTHERWELL. + + + + +THE TRUMPETER OF FYVIE. + + +"The ballad was taken down by Dr. Leyden from the recitation of a +young lady (Miss Robson) of Edinburgh, who learned it in Teviotdale. +It was current in the Border counties within these few years, as it +still is in the northeast of Scotland, where the scene is laid." +Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 129. + + At Fyvie's yetts there grows a flower, + It grows baith braid and bonny; + There's a daisie in the midst o' it, + And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie. + + "O gin that flower war in my breast, 5 + For the love I bear the laddie; + I wad kiss it, and I wad clap it, + And daut it for Andrew Lammie. + + "The first time me and my love met, + Was in the woods of Fyvie; 10 + He kissed my lips five thousand times, + And ay he ca'd me bonny; + And a' the answer he gat frae me, + Was, My bonny Andrew Lammie!" + + "'Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh; 15 + Love, I maun gang and leave thee;' + I sighed right sair, and said nae mair, + But, O gin I were wi' ye!" + + "But true and trusty will I be, + As I am Andrew Lammie; 20 + I'll never kiss a woman's mouth, + Till I come back and see thee." + + "And true and trusty will I be, + As I am Tiftie's Annie; + I'll never kiss a man again, 25 + Till ye come back and see me." + + Syne he's come back frae Edinburgh, + To the bonny hows o' Fyvie; + And ay his face to the nor-east, + To look for Tiftie's Annie. 30 + + "I ha'e a love in Edinburgh, + Sae ha'e I intill Leith, man; + I hae a love intill Montrose, + Sae ha'e I in Dalkeith, man. + + "And east and west, where'er I go, 35 + My love she's always wi' me; + For east and west, where'er I go, + My love she dwells in Fyvie. + + "My love possesses a' my heart, + Nae pen can e'er indite her; 40 + She's ay sae stately as she goes, + That I see nae mae like her. + + "But Tiftie winna gi'e consent + His dochter me to marry, + Because she has five thousand marks, 45 + And I have not a penny. + + "Love pines away, love dwines away, + Love, love, decays the body; + For love o' thee, oh I must die; + Adieu, my bonny Annie!" 50 + + Her mither raise out o' her bed, + And ca'd on baith her women: + "What ails ye, Annie, my dochter dear? + O Annie, was ye dreamin'? + + "What dule disturb'd my dochter's sleep? 55 + O tell to me, my Annie!" + She sighed right sair, and said nae mair, + But, "O for Andrew Lammie!" + + Her father beat her cruellie, + Sae also did her mother; 60 + Her sisters sair did scoff at her; + But wae betide her brother! + + Her brother beat her cruellie, + Till his straiks they werena canny; + He brak her back, and he beat her sides, 65 + For the sake o' Andrew Lammie. + + "O fie, O fie, my brother dear, + The gentlemen 'll shame ye; + The laird o' Fyvie he's gaun by, + And he'll come in and see me. 70 + + And he'll kiss me, and he'll clap me, + And he will speer what ails me; + And I will answer him again, + It's a' for Andrew Lammie." + + Her sisters they stood in the door, 75 + Sair griev'd her wi' their folly; + "O sister dear, come to the door, + Your cow is lowin on you." + + "O fie, O fie, my sister dear, + Grieve me not wi' your folly; 80 + I'd rather hear the trumpet sound, + Than a' the kye o' Fyvie. + + "Love pines away, love dwines away, + Love, love decays the body; + For love o' thee now I maun die-- 85 + Adieu to Andrew Lammie!" + + But Tiftie's wrote a braid letter, + And sent it into Fyvie, + Saying, his daughter was bewitch'd + By bonny Andrew Lammie. 90 + + "Now, Tiftie, ye maun gi'e consent, + And lat the lassie marry." + "I'll never, never gi'e consent + To the Trumpeter of Fyvie." + + When Fyvie looked the letter on, 95 + He was baith sad and sorry: + Says--"The bonniest lass o' the country-side + Has died for Andrew Lammie." + + O Andrew's gane to the house-top + O' the bonny house o' Fyvie; 100 + He's blawn his horn baith loud and shill + O'er the lawland leas o' Fyvie. + + "Mony a time ha'e I walk'd a' night, + And never yet was weary; + But now I may walk wae my lane, 105 + For I'll never see my deary. + + "Love pines away, love dwines away, + Love, love, decays the body: + For the love o' thee, now I maun die-- + I come, my bonny Annie!" 110 + + + + +FAIR HELEN OF KIRCONNELL. + + +"The following very popular ballad has been handed down by tradition +in its present imperfect state. The affecting incident on which it +is founded is well known. A lady, of the name of Helen Irving, or +Bell, (for this is disputed by the two clans,) daughter of the Laird +of Kirconnell, in Dumfries-shire, and celebrated for her beauty, was +beloved by two gentlemen in the neighbourhood. The name of the +favoured suitor was Adam Fleming of Kirkpatrick; that of the other +has escaped tradition: though it has been alleged that he was a +Bell, of Blacket House. The addresses of the latter were, however, +favoured by the friends of the lady, and the lovers were therefore +obliged to meet in secret, and by night, in the churchyard of +Kirconnell, a romantic spot, almost surrounded by the river Kirtle. +During one of these private interviews, the jealous and despised +lover suddenly appeared on the opposite bank of the stream, and +levelled his carabine at the breast of his rival. Helen threw +herself before her lover, received in her bosom the bullet, and died +in his arms. A desperate and mortal combat ensued between Fleming +and the murderer, in which the latter was cut to pieces. Other +accounts say, that Fleming pursued his enemy to Spain, and slew him +in the streets of Madrid. + +"The ballad, as now published, consists of two parts. The first +seems to be an address, either by Fleming or his rival, to the lady; +if, indeed, it constituted any portion of the original poem. For the +Editor cannot help suspecting, that these verses have been the +production of a different and inferior bard, and only adapted to the +original measure and tune. But this suspicion being unwarranted by +any copy he has been able to procure, he does not venture to do more +than intimate his own opinion. The second part, by far the most +beautiful, and which is unquestionably original, forms the lament of +Fleming over the grave of fair Helen. + +"The ballad is here given, without alteration or improvement, from +the most accurate copy which could be recovered. The fate of Helen +has not, however, remained unsung by modern bards. A lament, of +great poetical merit, by the learned historian, Mr. Pinkerton, with +several other poems on this subject, have been printed in various +forms.[B] + +"The grave of the lovers is yet shown in the churchyard of +Kirconnell, near Springkell. Upon the tombstone can still be +read--_Hic jacet Adamus Fleming_; a cross and sword are sculptured +on the stone. The former is called by the country people, the gun +with which Helen was murdered; and the latter the avenging sword of +her lover. _Sit illis terra levis!_ A heap of stones is raised on +the spot where the murder was committed; a token of abhorrence +common to most nations." _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. +98. + + [B] For Pinkerton's elegy, see his _Select Scottish Ballads_, i. + 109; for Mayne's, the _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. 86, Part ii. 64. + Jamieson has enfeebled the story in _Popular Ballads_, i. 205, and + Wordsworth's _Ellen Irwin_ hardly deserves more praise. ED. + +Versions of the Second Part, (which alone deserves notice,) nearly +agreeing with Scott's, are given in the Illustrations to the new +edition of Johnson's _Museum_, p. 143, by Mr. Stenhouse, p. 210, by +Mr. Sharpe. Inferior and fragmentary ones in Herd's _Scottish +Songs_, i. 257; Johnson's _Museum_, 163; Ritson's _Scottish Song_, +i. 145; Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 203. + + +FAIR HELEN. + +PART FIRST. + + + O! sweetest sweet, and fairest fair, + Of birth and worth beyond compare, + Thou art the causer of my care, + Since first I loved thee. + + Yet God hath given to me a mind, 5 + The which to thee shall prove as kind + As any one that thou shalt find, + Of high or low degree. + + The shallowest water makes maist din, + The deadest pool the deepest linn; 10 + The richest man least truth within, + Though he preferred be. + + Yet, nevertheless, I am content, + And never a whit my love repent, + But think the time was a' weel spent, 15 + Though I disdained be. + + O! Helen sweet, and maist complete, + My captive spirit's at thy feet! + Thinks thou still fit thus for to treat + Thy captive cruelly? 20 + + O! Helen brave! but this I crave, + Of thy poor slave some pity have, + And do him save that's near his grave, + And dies for love of thee. + + +FAIR HELEN. + +PART SECOND. + + + I wish I were where Helen lies, + Night and day on me she cries; + O that I were where Helen lies, + On fair Kirconnell Lee! + + Curst be the heart that thought the thought, 5 + And curst the hand that fired the shot, + When in my arms burd Helen dropt, + And died to succour me! + + O think na ye my heart was sair, + When my love dropt down and spak nae mair! 10 + There did she swoon wi' meikle care, + On fair Kirconnell Lee. + + As I went down the water side, + None but my foe to be my guide, + None but my foe to be my guide, 15 + On fair Kirconnell Lee; + + I lighted down my sword to draw, + I hacked him in pieces sma', + I hacked him in pieces sma', + For her sake that died for me. 20 + + O Helen fair, beyond compare! + I'll make a garland of thy hair, + Shall bind my heart for evermair, + Until the day I die. + + O that I were where Helen lies! 25 + Night and day on me she cries; + Out of my bed she bids me rise, + Says, "Haste and come to me!"-- + + O Helen fair! O Helen chaste! + If I were with thee, I were blest, 30 + Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest, + On fair Kirconnell Lee. + + I wish my grave were growing green, + A winding-sheet drawn ower my een, + And I in Helen's arms lying, 35 + On fair Kirconnell Lee. + + I wish I were where Helen lies! + Night and day on me she cries; + And I am weary of the skies, + For her sake that died for me. 40 + + + + +THE LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND. + + +Mr. Stenhouse was informed that this ballad was composed, about the +beginning of the last century, by a young widow in Galloway, whose +husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland. (_Musical Museum_, ed. +1853, iv. 115.) But some of the verses appear to be old, and one +stanza will be remarked to be of common occurrence in ballad poetry. + +A fragment of this piece was published in Herd's collection, (ii. +49.) Our copy is from Johnson's _Museum_, p. 118, with the omission, +however, of one spurious and absurd stanza, while another, not +printed by Johnson, is supplied from the note above cited to the new +edition. Cunningham makes sense of the interpolated verses and +retains them; otherwise his version is nearly the same as the +present. (_Songs of Scotland_, ii. 181.) + + "The love that I have chosen, + I'll therewith be content, + The saut sea shall be frozen + Before that I repent; + Repent it shall I never, 5 + Until the day I die, + But the lowlands of Holland + Hae twinn'd my love and me. + + "My love lies in the saut sea, + And I am on the side, 10 + Enough to break a young thing's heart, + Wha lately was a bride; + Wha lately was a bonnie bride, + And pleasure in her e'e, + But the lowlands of Holland 15 + Hae twinn'd my love and me. + + "My love he built a bonnie ship, + And set her to the sea, + Wi' seven score brave mariners + To bear her companie; 20 + Threescore gaed to the bottom, + And threescore died at sea, + And the lowlands of Holland + Hae twinn'd my love and me. + + "My love has built another ship 25 + And set her to the main; + He had but twenty mariners, + And all to bring her hame; + The stormy winds did roar again, + The raging waves did rout, 30 + And my love and his bonnie ship + Turn'd widdershins about. + + "There shall nae mantle cross my back,[L33] + Nor kame gae in my hair, + Neither shall coal nor candle light 35 + Shine in my bower mair; + Nor shall I chuse anither love, + Until the day I die, + Since the lowlands of Holland + Hae twinn'd my love and me." 40 + + "O haud your tongue, my daughter dear, + Be still, and be content; + There are mair lads in Galloway, + Ye need nae sair lament." + "O there is nane in Galloway,[L45] 45 + There's nane at a' for me; + For I never loved a lad but ane, + And he's drowned in the sea." + +33-36, 45-48. With the conclusion of this piece may be compared a +passage from _Bonny Bee-Ho'm_, vol. iii. p. 57. + + "Ohon, alas! what shall I do, + Tormented night and day! + I never loved a love but ane, + And now he's gone away. + + "But I will do for my true love + What ladies would think sair; + For seven years shall come and gae, + Ere a kaime gae in my hair. + + "There shall neither a shoe gae on my foot, + Nor a kaime gae in my hair, + Nor ever a coal or candle light + Shine in my bower nae mair." + +See also _The Weary Coble o' Cargill_. + + + + +BOOK III. + + + + +THE TWA BROTHERS. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 59. + + +The ballad of the _Twa Brothers_, like many of the domestic +tragedies with which it is grouped in this volume, is by no means +the peculiar property of the island of Great Britain. It finds an +exact counterpart in the Swedish ballad _Sven i Rosengård_, _Svenska +F. V._, No. 67, Arwidsson, No. 87, A, B, which, together with a +Finnish version of the same story, thought to be derived from the +Swedish, will be found translated in our Appendix. _Edward_, in +Percy's _Reliques_, has the same general theme, with the difference +that a father is murdered instead of a brother. Motherwell[C] has +printed a ballad (_Son Davie_) closely agreeing with _Edward_, +except that the crime is again fratricide. He has also furnished +another version of _The Twa Brothers_, in which the catastrophe is +the consequence of an accident, and this circumstance has led the +excellent editor to tax Jamieson with altering one of the most +essential features of the ballad, by filling out a defective stanza +with four lines that make one brother to have slain the other in a +quarrel. Jamieson is, however, justified in giving this more +melancholy character to the story, by the tenor of all the kindred +pieces, and by the language of his own. It will be observed that +both in _Edward_ and _Son Davie_, the wicked act was not only +deliberate, but was even instigated by the mother. The departure +from the original is undoubtedly on the part of Motherwell's copy, +which has softened down a shocking incident to accommodate a modern +and refined sentiment. But Jamieson is artistically, as well as +critically right, since the effect of the contrast of the remorse of +one party and the generosity of the other is heightened by +representing the terrible event as the result of ungoverned passion. + + [C] The stanza mentioned by Motherwell, as occurring in Werner's + _Twenty Fourth of February_, (Scene i.) is apparently only a + quotation from memory of Herder's translation of _Edward_. When + Motherwell became aware that a similar tradition was common to the + Northern nations of Europe, he could no longer have thought it + possible that an occurrence in the family history of the Somervilles + gave rise to _The Twa Brothers_. + +The three Scottish ballads mentioned above, here follow, and +Motherwell's _Twa Brothers_ will be found in the Appendix. Mr. +Sharpe has inserted a third copy of this in his _Ballad Book_, p. +56. Another is said to be in _The Scot's Magazine_, for June, 1822. +Placing no confidence in any of Allan Cunningham's _souvenirs_ of +Scottish Song, we simply state that one of them, composed upon the +theme of the _Twa Brothers_, is included in the _Songs of Scotland_, +ii. 16. + +"The common title of this ballad is, _The Twa Brothers_, or, _The +Wood o' Warslin_, but the words _o' Warslin_ appearing to the +editor, as will be seen in the text, to be a mistake for +_a-wrestling_, he took the liberty of altering it accordingly. After +all, perhaps, the title may be right; and the wood may afterwards +have obtained its denomination from the tragical event here +celebrated. A very few lines inserted by the editor to fill up +chasms, [some of which have been omitted,] are inclosed in brackets; +the text, in other respects, is given genuine, as it was taken down +from the recitation of Mrs. Arrott." JAMIESON. + + "O will ye gae to the school, brother? + Or will ye gae to the ba'? + Or will ye gae to the wood a-warslin, + To see whilk o's maun fa'?" + + "It's I winna gae to the school, brother; 5 + Nor will I gae to the ba'? + But I will gae to the wood a-warslin; + And it is you maun fa'." + + They warstled up, they warstled down, + The lee-lang simmer's day; 10 + [And nane was near to part the strife, + That raise atween them tway, + Till out and Willie's drawn his sword, + And did his brother slay.] + + "O lift me up upon your back; 15 + Tak me to yon wall fair; + You'll wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, + And syne they'll bleed nae mair. + + "And ye'll tak aff my Hollin sark, + And riv't frae gair to gair; 20 + Ye'll stap it in my bluidy wounds, + And syne they'll bleed nae mair." + + He's liftit his brother upon his back; + Ta'en him to yon wall fair; + He's washed his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, 25 + But ay they bled mair and mair. + + And he's ta'en aff his Hollin sark, + And riven't frae gair to gair; + He's stappit it in his bluidy wounds; + But ay they bled mair and mair. 30 + + "Ye'll lift me up upon your back, + Tak me to Kirkland fair;[L32] + Ye'll mak my greaf baith braid and lang, + And lay my body there. + + "Ye'll lay my arrows at my head, 35 + My bent bow at my feet; + My sword and buckler at my side, + As I was wont to sleep. + + "Whan ye gae hame to your father, + He'll speer for his son John:-- 40 + Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair, + Learning the school alone. + + "When ye gae hame to my sister, + She'll speer for her brother John:-- + Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, 45 + The green grass growin aboon. + + "Whan ye gae hame to my true love, + She'll speer for her lord John:-- + Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, + But hame ye fear he'll never come."-- 50 + + He's gane hame to his father; + He speered for his son John: + "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, + Learning the school alone." + + And whan he gaed hame to his sister, 55 + She speered for her brother John:-- + "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, + The green grass growin aboon." + + And whan he gaed hame to his true love, + She speer'd for her lord John: 60 + "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, + And hame I fear he'll never come." + + "But whaten bluid's that on your sword, Willie? + Sweet Willie, tell to me." + "O it is the bluid o' my grey hounds; 65 + They wadna rin for me." + + "It's nae the bluid o' your hounds, Willie; + Their bluid was never so red; + But it is the bluid o' my true love, + That ye hae slain indeed." 70 + + That fair may wept, that fair may mourn'd, + That fair may mourn'd and pin'd; + "When every lady looks for her love, + I ne'er need look for mine." + + "O whaten a death will ye die, Willie? 75 + Now, Willie, tell to me." + "Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat, + And I'll gae sail the sea." + + "Whan will ye come hame again, Willie? + Now, Willie, tell to me." 80 + "Whan the sun and moon dances on the green, + And that will never be." + +32. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, was built of +old by the abbot of Holyrood-house, for his accommodation when he +came to that country, and was formerly the minister's manse." _Stat. +Ac. of Scotland_, vol. xiii. p. 506. J. + + + + +EDWARD, EDWARD. + + + "This curious Song was transmitted to the Editor by Sir David + Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes." + PERCY, _Reliques_, i. 61. + + "Quhy dois zour brand sae drop w' bluid, + Edward, Edward? + Quhy dois zour brand sae drop wi' bluid, + And quhy sae sad gang zee O?" + "O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 5 + Mither, mither: + O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, + And I had nae mair bot hee O." + + "Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, + Edward, Edward: 10 + Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, + My deir son I tell thee O." + "O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, + Mither, mither: + O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, 15 + That erst was sae fair and free O." + + "Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, + Edward, Edward: + Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, + Sum other dule ze drie O." 20 + "O I hae killed my fadir deir, + Mither, mither: + O I hae killed my fadir deir, + Alas! and wae is mee O!" + + "And quhatten penance wul ze drie, for that, 25 + Edward, Edward? + And quhatten penance will ze drie for that? + My deir son, now tell me O." + "Ile set my feit in zonder boat, + Mither, mither: 30 + Ile set my feit in zonder boat, + And Ile fare ovir the sea O." + + "And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', + Edward, Edward? + And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', 35 + That were sae fair to see O?" + "Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', + Mither, mither: + Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', + For here nevir mair maun I bee O." 40 + + "And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, + Edward, Edward? + And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, + Quhan ze gang ovir the sea O?" + "The warldis room, late them beg throw life, 45 + Mither, mither: + The warldis room, late them beg throw life, + For thame nevir mair wul I see O." + + "And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir, + Edward, Edward? 50 + And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir? + My deir son, now tell me O." + "The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, + Mither, mither: + The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, 55 + Sic counseils ze gave to me O." + + + + +SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE. + + +From the recitation of an old woman. Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, 339. + + "What bluid's that on thy coat lap? + Son Davie! son Davie! + What bluid's that on thy coat lap? + And the truth come tell to me O." + + "It is the bluid of my great hawk, 5 + Mother lady! mother lady! + It is the bluid of my great hawk, + And the truth I hae tald to thee O." + + "Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, + Son Davie! son Davie! 10 + Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, + And the truth come tell to me O." + + "It is the bluid o' my grey hound, + Mother lady! mother lady! + It is the bluid of my grey hound, 15 + And it wudna rin for me O." + + "Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, + Son Davie! son Davie! + Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, + And the truth come tell to me O." 20 + + "It is the bluid o' my brother John, + Mother lady! mother lady! + It is the bluid o' my brother John, + And the truth I hae tald to thee O." + + "What about did the plea begin? 25 + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "It began about the cutting o' a willow wand, + That would never hae been a tree O." + + "What death dost thou desire to die? + Son Davie! son Davie! 30 + What death dost thou desire to die? + And the truth come tell to me O." + + "I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, + Mother lady! mother lady! + I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, 35 + And ye'll never see mair o' me O." + + "What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife? + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "Grief and sorrow all her life, + And she'll never get mair frae me O." 40 + + "What wilt thou leave to thy auld son? + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "The weary warld to wander up and down, + And he'll never get mair o' me O." + + "What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear? 45 + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer, + And she'll never get mair o' me O." + + + + +THE CRUEL SISTER. + + +The earliest printed copy of this ballad is the curious piece in +_Wit Restor'd_, (1658,) called _The Miller and the King's Daughter_, +improperly said to be a parody, by Jamieson and others. (See +Appendix.) Pinkerton inserted in his _Tragic Ballads_, (p. 72,) a +ballad on the subject, which preserves many genuine lines, but is +half his own composition. Complete versions were published by Scott +and Jamieson, and more recently a third has been furnished in +Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 30, and a fourth in Buchan's _Ballads of +the North of Scotland_ (given at the end of this volume). The burden +of Mr. Sharpe's copy is nearly the same as that of the _Cruel +Mother_, _post_, p. 372. Jamieson's copy had also this burden, but +he exchanged it for the more popular, and certainly more tasteful, +_Binnorie_. No ballad furnishes a closer link than this between the +popular poetry of England and that of the other nations of Northern +Europe. The same story is found in Icelandic, Norse, Faroish, and +Estnish ballads, as well as in the Swedish and Danish, and a nearly +related one in many other ballads or tales, German, Polish, +Lithuanian, etc., etc.--See _Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 16, i. 81, +86, Arwidsson, ii. 139, and especially _Den Talende Strengeleg_, +Grundtvig, No. 95, and the notes to _Der Singende Knochen_, _K. u. +H. Märchen_, iii. 55, ed. 1856. + +Of the edition in the _Border Minstrelsy_, Scott gives the following +account, (iii. 287.) + +"It is compiled from a copy in Mrs. Brown's MSS., intermixed with a +beautiful fragment, of fourteen verses, transmitted to the Editor by +J. C. Walker, Esq. the ingenious historian of the Irish bards. Mr. +Walker, at the same time, favored the Editor with the following +note: 'I am indebted to my departed friend, Miss Brook, for the +foregoing pathetic fragment. Her account of it was as follows: This +song was trans-scribed, several years ago, from the memory of an old +woman, who had no recollection of the concluding verses; probably +the beginning may also be lost, as it seems to commence abruptly.' +The first verse and burden of the fragment ran thus:-- + + 'O sister, sister, reach thy hand! + _Hey ho, my Nanny, O_; + And you shall be heir of all my land, + _While the swan swims bonney, O_.'" + + + There were two sisters sat in a bour; + _Bínnorie, O Bínnorie_; + There came a knight to be their wooer; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest with glove and ring, 5 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + But he lo'ed the youngest abune a' thing; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest with broach and knife, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 10 + But he lo'ed the youngest abune his life; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The eldest she was vexed sair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And sore envied her sister fair; 15 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The eldest said to the youngest ane, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + "Will ye go and see our father's ships come in?" + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 20 + + She's ta'en her by the lily hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And led her down to the river strand; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The youngest stude upon a stane, 25 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + The eldest came and pushed her in; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + She took her by the middle sma', + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 30 + And dash'd her bonny back to the jaw; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "O sister, sister, reach your hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And ye shall be heir of half my land."-- 35 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "O sister, I'll not reach my hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And I'll be heir of all your land; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 40 + + "Shame fa' the hand that I should take, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + It's twin'd me and my world's make."-- + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "O sister, reach me but your glove, 45 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And sweet William shall be your love."-- + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove! + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 50 + And sweet William shall better be my love, + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_, + Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."-- 55 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + Until she cam to the miller's dam; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 60 + + "O father, father, draw your dam! + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + There's either a mermaid, or a milk-white swan." + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The miller hasted and drew his dam, 65 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And there he found a drown'd woman; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + You could not see her yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 70 + For gowd and pearls that were so rare; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + You could not see her middle sma', + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + Her gowden girdle was sae bra'; 75 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + A famous harper passing by, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + The sweet pale face he chanced to spy; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 80 + + And when he looked that lady on, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + He sigh'd and made a heavy moan; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He made a harp of her breast-bone, 85 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The strings he framed of her yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 90 + Whose notes made sad the listening ear; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He brought it to her father's hall, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And there was the court assembled all; 95 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He laid his harp upon a stone, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And straight it began to play alone; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 100 + + "O yonder sits my father, the king, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And yonder sits my mother, the queen;" + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "And yonder stands my brother Hugh, 105 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And by him my William, sweet and true." + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + But the last tune that the harp play'd then, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 110 + Was--"Woe to my sister, false Helen!" + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + + + +THE TWA SISTERS. + + +_Verbatim_ (with one interpolated stanza) from the recitation of +Mrs. Brown. Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 50. + + There was twa sisters liv'd in a bower, + _Bínnorie, O Bínnorie_! + There came a knight to be their wooer, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring, 5 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + But he loved the youngest aboon a' thing, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest wi' broach and knife, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 10 + But he loved the youngest as his life, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The eldest she was vexed sair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And sair envied her sister fair, 15 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + Intill her bower she coudna rest, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Wi' grief and spite she maistly brast, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 20 + + Upon a morning fair and clear, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + She cried upon her sister dear, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O sister, come to yon sea strand, 25 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And see our father's ships come to land," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + She's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 30 + And led her down to yon sea strand, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The youngest stood upon a stane, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + The eldest came and threw her in, 35 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + She took her by the middle sma' + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And dashed her bonny back to the jaw, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 40 + + "O sister, sister, tak my hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And I'se mak ye heir to a' my land, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O sister, sister, tak my middle, 45 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And ye's get my goud and my gouden girdle, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O sister, sister, save my life, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 50 + And I swear I'se never be nae man's wife," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "Foul fa' the hand that I should tak, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + It twin'd me o' my warldes mak, 55 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "Your cherry cheeks and yellow hair + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Gars me gang maiden for evermair," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 60 + + Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Till she came to the mouth o' yon mill-dam, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + O out it came the miller's son, 65 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And saw the fair maid soummin in, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O father, father, draw your dam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 70 + There's either a mermaid or a swan," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + [The miller quickly drew the dam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And there he found a drown'd woman, 75 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.] + + "And sair and lang mat their teen last, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + That wrought thee sic a dowie cast," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_! 80 + + You coudna see her yellow hair + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + For goud and pearl that was sae rare, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + You coudna see her middle sma' 85 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + For gouden girdle that was sae braw, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + You coudna see her fingers white, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 90 + For gouden rings that were sae gryte, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + And by there came a harper fine, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + That harped to the king at dine, 95 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + Whan he did look that lady upon, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + He sigh'd and made a heavy moan, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 100 + + He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And wi' them strung his harp sae fair, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The first tune it did play and sing, 105 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Was, "Fareweel to my father the king," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The nexten tune that it play'd seen, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 110 + Was, "Fareweel to my mither the queen," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The thirden tune that it play'd then, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Was, "Wae to my sister, fair Ellen," 115 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_! + + + + +LORD DONALD. + +Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 110. + + +Like the two which preceded it, this ballad is common to the Gothic +nations. It exists in a great variety of forms. Two stanzas, +recovered by Burns, were printed in Johnson's _Museum_, i. 337; two +others were inserted by Jamieson, in his _Illustrations_, p. 319. +The _Border Minstrelsy_ furnished five stanzas, giving the _story_, +without the bequests. Allan Cunningham's alteration of Scott's +version, (_Scottish Songs_, i. 285,) has one stanza more. Kinloch +procured from the North of Scotland the following complete copy. + +In the Appendix, we have placed a nursery song on the same subject, +still familiar in Scotland, and translations of the corresponding +German and Swedish ballads--both most remarkable cases of +parallelism in popular romance. + +Lord Donald, as Kinloch remarks, would seem to have been poisoned by +eating toads prepared as fishes. Scott, in his introduction to _Lord +Randal_, has quoted from an old chronicle, a fabulous account of the +poisoning of King John by means of a cup of ale, in which the venom +of this reptile had been infused. + + "O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son? + O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?" + "I've been awa courtin':--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? 5 + What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?" + "I've gotten my supper:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? + What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?" 10 + "A dish of sma' fishes:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son? + Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?" + "In my father's black ditches:--mither, mak my bed sune, 15 + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son? + What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?" + "Black backs and spreckl'd bellies:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." 20 + + "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son! + O I fear ye are poison'd, my jollie young man!" + "O yes! I am poison'd:--mither mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son? 25 + What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?" + "Baith my houses and land:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son? + What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?" 30 + "My horse and the saddle:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son? + What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?" + "Baith my gold box and rings:--mither, mak my bed sune, 35 + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son? + What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?" + "The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree, + And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me." 40 + + + + +LORD RANDAL (B). + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, (iii. 49.) + + +Scott changed the name of the hero of this piece from _Lord Ronald_ +to _Lord Randal_, on the authority of a single copy. The change is +unimportant, but the reason will appear curious, if we remember that +the Swedes and Germans have the ballad as well as the +Scotch;--"because, though the circumstances are so very different, I +think it not impossible, that the ballad may have originally +regarded the death of Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, +nephew to Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland." + + "O where hae ye been Lord Randal, my son? + O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?"-- + "I hae been to the wild wood; mother make my bed soon, + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? 5 + Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?" + "I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? + What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"-- 10 + "I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon, + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? + What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"-- + "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, 15 + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son! + O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!"-- + "O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down." 20 + + + + +THE CRUEL BROTHER: + +OR, + +THE BRIDE'S TESTAMENT. + + +Of this ballad, which is still commonly recited and sung in +Scotland, four copies have been published. The following is from +Jamieson's collection, i. 66, where it was printed _verbatim_ after +the recitation of Mrs. Arrott. A copy from Aytoun's collection is +subjoined, which is nearly the same as a less perfect one in Herd, +i. 149, and the fourth, from Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, +&c., is in the Appendix to this volume. + +The conclusion, or testamentary part, occurs very frequently in ballads, +e. g. _Den lillas Testamente_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, No. 68, translated +in the Appendix to this volume, the end of _Den onde Svigermoder_, +_Danske Viser_, i. 261, translated in _Illustrations of Northern +Antiquities_, p. 344, _Möen paa Baalet_, Grundtvig, No. 109, A, st. +18-21, and _Kong Valdemar og hans Söster_, Grundtvig, No. 126, A, st. +101-105. See also _Edward_, and _Lord Donald_, p. 225, p. 244. + + There was three ladies play'd at the ba', + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + There came a knight, and play'd o'er them a', + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The eldest was baith tall and fair, 5 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + But the youngest was beyond compare, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The midmost had a gracefu' mien, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 10 + But the youngest look'd like beauty's queen, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The knight bow'd low to a' the three, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + But to the youngest he bent his knee, 15 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The lady turned her head aside, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + The knight he woo'd her to be his bride, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 20 + + The lady blush'd a rosy red, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And said, "Sir knight, I'm o'er young to wed," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "O lady fair, give me your hand, 25 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And I'll mak you ladie of a' my land," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "Sir knight, ere you my favor win, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 30 + Ye maun get consent frae a' my kin," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + He has got consent fra her parents dear, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And likewise frae her sisters fair, 35 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + He has got consent frae her kin each one, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + But forgot to speer at her brother John, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 40 + + Now, when the wedding day was come, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + The knight would take his bonny bride home, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + And many a lord and many a knight, 45 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + Came to behold that lady bright, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + And there was nae man that did her see, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, 50 + But wished himself bridegroom to be, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + Her father dear led her down the stair, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And her sisters twain they kiss'd her there, 55 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + Her mother dear led her through the close, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And her brother John set her on her horse, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 60 + + She lean'd her o'er the saddle-bow, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, + To give him a kiss ere she did go, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + He has ta'en a knife, baith lang and sharp, 65 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, + And stabb'd the bonny bride to the heart, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + She hadna ridden half thro' the town, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, 70 + Until her heart's blood stained her gown, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "Ride saftly on," said the best young man, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "For I think our bonny bride looks pale and wan," 75 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "O lead me gently up yon hill, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, + And I'll there sit down, and make my will," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 80 + + "O what will you leave to your father dear?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "The silver-shod steed that brought me here," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "What will you leave to your mother dear?" 85 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "My velvet pall and silken gear," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "And what will ye leave to your sister Ann?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 90 + "My silken scarf, and my golden fan," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "What will ye leave to your sister Grace?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "My bloody cloaths to wash and dress," 95 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "What will ye leave to your brother John?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "The gallows-tree to hang him on," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 100 + + "What will ye leave to your brother John's wife?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "The wilderness to end her life," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + This fair lady in her grave was laid, 105 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And a mass was o'er her said, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + But it would have made your heart right sair, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 110 + To see the bridegroom rive his hair, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + + + +THE CRUEL BROTHER. + + +From Aytoun's _Ballads of Scotland_ (2d ed.), i. 232, "taken down +from recitation." Found also, but with several stanzas wanting, in +Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 149. The title in both collections is +_Fine Flowers i' the Valley_. This part of the refrain is found in +one of the versions of the _Cruel Mother_, p. 269. To Herd's copy +are annexed two fragmentary stanzas with nearly the same burden as +that of the foregoing ballad. + + She louted down to gie a kiss, + _With a hey and a lily gay_; + He stuck his penknife in her hass, + _And the rose it smells so sweetly_. + + "Ride up, ride up," cry'd the foremost man, + _With a hey and a lily gay_; + "I think our bride looks pale and wan," + _And the rose it smells so sweetly_. + + + There were three sisters in a ha', + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + There came three lords amang them a', + _The red, green, and the yellow_. + + The first o' them was clad in red, 5 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "O lady, will ye be my bride?" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + The second o' them was clad in green, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 10 + "O lady, will ye be my queen?" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + The third o' them was clad in yellow, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "O lady, will ye be my marrow?" 15 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O ye maun ask my father dear," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + "Likewise the mother that did me bear," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 20 + + "And ye maun ask my sister Ann," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "And not forget my brother John," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O I have asked thy father dear," 25 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + "Likewise the mother that did thee bear," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "And I have asked your sister Ann," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 30 + "But I forgot your brother John;" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + Now when the wedding-day was come, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + The knight would take his bonny bride home, 35 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + And mony a lord, and mony a knight, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + Cam to behold that lady bright, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 40 + + There was nae man that did her see, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + But wished himsell bridegroom to be, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + Her father led her down the stair, 45 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + And her sisters twain they kissed her there, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + Her mother led her through the close, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 50 + Her brother John set her on her horse, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "You are high and I am low," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "Give me a kiss before you go," 55 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + She was louting down to kiss him sweet, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + When wi' his knife he wounded her deep, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 60 + + She hadna ridden through half the town, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + Until her heart's blood stained her gown, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "Ride saftly on," said the best young man, 65 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "I think our bride looks pale and wan!" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O lead me over into yon stile," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, 70 + "That I may stop and breathe awhile," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O lead me over into yon stair," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + "For there I'll lie and bleed nae mair," 75 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O what will you leave to your father dear?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "The siller-shod steed that brought me here," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 80 + + "What will you leave to your mother dear?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "My velvet pall, and my pearlin' gear," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "What will you leave to your sister Ann?" 85 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "My silken gown that stands its lane," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "What will you leave to your sister Grace?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 90 + "My bluidy shirt to wash and dress," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "What will you leave to your brother John?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "The gates o' hell to let him in," 95 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + + + +LADY ANNE. + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 18. + + +"This ballad was communicated to me by Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe of +Hoddom, who mentions having copied it from an old magazine. Although +it has probably received some modern corrections, the general turn +seems to be ancient, and corresponds with that of a fragment which I +have often heard sung in my childhood." + +The version to which Sir Walter Scott refers, and part of which he +proceeds to quote, had been printed in Johnson's _Museum_. It is +placed immediately after the present, with other copies of the +ballad from Motherwell and Kinloch. + +In Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_ there are two more, +which are repeated with slight variations in the XVII. Vol. of the +Percy Society, p. 46, p. 50. Both will be found in the Appendix. The +copy in Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 90, seems to be taken from Scott. +Smith's _Scottish Minstrel_, iv. 33, affords still another variety. + +In German, _Die Kindesmörderin_, Erk's _Liederhort_, No. 41, five +copies; Erlach, iv. 148; Hoffmann, _Schlesische V. L._, No. 31, 32; +_Wunderhorn_, ii. 202; Zuccalmaglio, No. 97; Meinert, No. 81; +Simrock, p. 87. (But some of these are repetitions.) Wendish, Haupt +and Schmaler, I. No. 292, and with considerable differences, I. No. +290, II. 197. This last reference is taken from Grundtvig, ii. 531. + + Fair Lady Anne sate in her bower, + Down by the greenwood side, + And the flowers did spring, and the birds did sing, + 'Twas the pleasant May-day tide. + + But fair Lady Anne on Sir William call'd, 5 + With the tear grit in her ee, + "O though thou be fause, may Heaven thee guard, + In the wars ayont the sea!"-- + + Out of the wood came three bonnie boys, + Upon the simmer's morn, 10 + And they did sing and play at the ba', + As naked as they were born. + + "O seven lang years wad I sit here, + Amang the frost and snaw, + A' to hae but ane o' these bonnie boys, 15 + A playing at the ba'."-- + + Then up and spake the eldest boy, + "Now listen, thou fair ladie, + And ponder well the rede that I tell, + Then make ye a choice of the three. 20 + + "'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul, + And that ane, sae fair to see, + But a twelve-month sinsyne to paradise came, + To join with our companie."-- + + "O I will hae the snaw-white boy, 25 + The bonniest of the three."-- + "And if I were thine, and in thy propine, + O what wad ye do to me?"-- + + "'Tis I wad clead thee in silk and gowd, + And nourice thee on my knee."-- 30 + "O mither! mither! when I was thine, + Sic kindness I couldna see. + + "Beneath the turf, where now I stand, + The fause nurse buried me; + The cruel penknife sticks still in my heart, 35 + And I come not back to thee."-- + + * * * * * * * + + + + +FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY. + +From Johnson's _Musical Museum_, p. 331. + + +The first line of the burden is found also in _The Cruel Brother_, +p. 258. + + She sat down below a thorn, + _Fine flowers in the valley_; + And there she has her sweet babe born, + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + "Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe, 5 + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead," + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + She's taen out her little penknife, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, 10 + And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life, + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + And there she's buried her sweet babe in, 15 + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + As she was going to the church, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + She saw a sweet babe in the porch, + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. 20 + + "O sweet babe, and thou were mine, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine," + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + "O mother dear, when I was thine, 25 + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + Ye did na prove to me sae kind," + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + + + +THE CRUEL MOTHER. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 161. + + + She leaned her back unto a thorn, + _Three, three, and three by three_; + And there she has her two babes born, + _Three, three, and thirty-three_. + + She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt, 5 + And there she bound them hand and foot. + + She has ta'en out her wee penknife, + And there she ended baith their life. + + She has howked a hole baith deep and wide, + She has put them in baith side by side. 10 + + She has covered them o'er wi' a marble stane, + Thinking she would gang maiden hame. + + As she was walking by her father's castle wa', + She saw twa pretty babes playing at the ba'. + + "O bonnie babes! gin ye were mine, 15 + I would dress you up in satin fine! + + "O I would dress you in the silk, + And wash you ay in morning milk!" + + "O cruel mother! we were thine, + And thou made us to wear the twine. 20 + + "O cursed mother! heaven's high, + And that's where thou will ne'er win nigh. + + "O cursed mother! hell is deep, + And there thou'll enter step by step." + + + + +THE CRUEL MOTHER. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 46. + + +Three stanzas of a Warwickshire version closely resembling Kinloch's +are given in _Notes and Queries_, vol. viii. p. 358. + + There lives a lady in London-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + She's gane wi' bairn to the clerk's son-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + She has tane her mantel her about-- 5 + _All alone, and alonie_; + She's gane aff to the gude greenwud-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + She has set her back until an aik-- + _All alone, and alonie_; 10 + First it bowed, and syne it brake-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + She has set her back until a brier-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + Bonnie were the twa boys she did bear-- 15 + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + But out she's tane a little penknife-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + And she's parted them and their sweet life-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. 20 + + She's aff unto her father's ha'-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + She seem'd the lealest maiden amang them a'-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + As she lookit our the castle wa'-- 25 + _All alone, and alonie_; + She spied twa bonnie boys playing at the ba'-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + "O an thae twa babes were mine"-- + _All alone, and alonie_; 30 + "They should wear the silk and the sabelline"-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + "O mother dear, when we were thine," + _All alone, and alonie_; + "We neither wore the silks nor the sabelline"-- 35 + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + "But out ye took a little penknife"-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + "An ye parted us and our sweet life"-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. 40 + + "But now we're in the heavens hie"-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + "And ye have the pains o' hell to dree"-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + + + +MAY COLVIN, OR FALSE SIR JOHN. + + +In the very ancient though corrupted ballads of _Lady Isabel and the +Elf-Knight_, and _The Water o' Wearie's Well_ (vol. i. p. 195, 198), +an Elf or a Merman occupies the place here assigned to False Sir +John. Perhaps _May Colvin_ is the result of the same modernizing +process by which _Hynde Etin_ has been converted into _Young +Hastings the Groom_ (vol. i. p. 294, 189). The coincidence of the +name with _Clerk Colvill_, in vol. i. p. 192, may have some +significance. This, however, would not be the opinion of Grundtvig, +who regards the Norse and German ballads resembling _Lady Isabel_, +&c., as compounded of two independent stories. If this be so, then +we should rather say that a ballad similar to _May Colvin_ has been +made to furnish the conclusion to the pieces referred to. + +The story of this ballad has apparently some connection with +_Bluebeard_, but it is hard to say what the connection is. (See +_Fitchers Vogel_ in the Grimms' _K. u. H.-Märchen_, No. 46, and +notes.) The versions of the ballad in other languages are all but +innumerable: e. g. _Röfvaren Rymer_, _Röfvaren Brun_, _Svenska +F.-V._, No. 82, 83; _Den Falske Riddaren_, Arwidsson, No. 44; +_Ulrich und Aennchen_, _Schön Ulrich u. Roth-Aennchen_, _Schön +Ulrich und Rautendelein_, _Ulinger_, _Herr Halewyn_, etc., in +_Wunderhorn_, i. 274; Uhland, 141-157 (four copies); Erk, +_Liederhort_, 91, 93; Erlach, iii. 450; Zuccalmaglio, _Deutsche +Volkslieder_, No. 15; Hoffmann, _Schlesische Volkslieder_, No. 12, +13, and _Niederländische Volkslieder_, No. 9, 10; etc. etc. A very +brief Italian ballad will be found in the Appendix, p. 391, which +seems to have the same theme. In some of the ballads the treacherous +seducer is an enchanter, who prevails upon the maid to go with him +by the power of a spell. + +_May Colvin_ was first published in Herd's Collection, vol. i. 153. +The copy here given is one obtained from recitation by Motherwell, +(_Minstrelsy_, p. 67,) collated by him with that of Herd. It is +defective at the end. The other versions in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, +p. 45, and Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 45, +though they are provided with some sort of conclusion, are not worth +reprinting. A modernized version, styled _The Outlandish Knight_, is +inserted in the Notes to _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient +Ballads_, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 101. + +Carlton Castle, on the coast of Carrick, is affirmed by the country +people, according to Mr. Chambers, to have been the residence of the +perfidious knight, and a precipice overhanging the sea, called +"Fause Sir John's Loup," is pointed out as the place where he was +wont to drown his wives. May Colvin is equally well ascertained to +have been "a daughter of the family of Kennedy of Colzean, now +represented by the Earl of Cassilis." Buchan's version assigns a +different locality to the transaction--that of "Binyan's Bay," +which, says the editor, is the old name of the mouth of the river +Ugie. + + False Sir John a wooing came + To a maid of beauty fair; + May Colvin was the lady's name, + Her father's only heir. + + He's courted her butt, and he's courted her ben, 5 + And he's courted her into the ha', + Till once he got this lady's consent + To mount and ride awa'. + + She's gane to her father's coffers, + Where all his money lay; 10 + And she's taken the red, and she's left the white, + And so lightly as she tripped away. + + She's gane down to her father's stable, + Where all his steeds did stand; + And she's taken the best, and she's left the warst, 15 + That was in her father's land. + + He rode on, and she rode on, + They rode a lang simmer's day, + Until they came to a broad river, + An arm of a lonesome sea. 20 + + "Loup off the steed," says false Sir John; + "Your bridal bed you see; + For it's seven king's daughters I have drowned here, + And the eighth I'll out make with thee. + + "Cast off, cast off your silks so fine, 25 + And lay them on a stone, + For they are o'er good and o'er costly + To rot in the salt sea foam. + + "Cast off, cast off your Holland smock, + And lay it on this stone, 30 + For it is too fine and o'er costly + To rot in the salt sea foam." + + "O turn you about, thou false Sir John, + And look to the leaf o' the tree; + For it never became a gentleman 35 + A naked woman to see." + + He's turn'd himself straight round about, + To look to the leaf o' the tree; + She's twined her arms about his waist, + And thrown him into the sea. 40 + + "O hold a grip of me, May Colvin, + For fear that I should drown; + I'll take you hame to your father's gates, + And safely I'll set you down." + + "O lie you there, thou false Sir John, 45 + O lie you there," said she; + "For you lie not in a caulder bed + Than the ane you intended for me." + + So she went on her father's steed, + As swift as she could flee, 50 + And she came hame to her father's gates + At the breaking of the day. + + Up then spake the pretty parrot: + "May Colvin, where have you been? + What has become of false Sir John, 55 + That wooed you so late yestreen?" + + Up then spake the pretty parrot, + In the bonnie cage where it lay: + "O what hae ye done with the false Sir John, + That he behind you does stay? 60 + + "He wooed you butt, he wooed you ben, + He wooed you into the ha', + Until he got your own consent + For to mount and gang awa'." + + "O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot, 65 + Lay not the blame upon me; + Your cage will be made of the beaten gold, + And the spakes of ivorie." + + Up then spake the king himself, + In the chamber where he lay: 70 + "O what ails the pretty parrot, + That prattles so long ere day?" + + "It was a cat cam to my cage door; + I thought 't would have worried me; + And I was calling on fair May Colvin 75 + To take the cat from me." + + + + +BABYLON, + +OR, + +THE BONNIE BANKS O' FORDIE. + + +"This ballad is given from two copies obtained from recitation, +which differ but little from each other. Indeed, the only variation +is in the verse where the outlawed brother unweetingly slays his +sister. One reading is,-- + + 'He's taken out his wee penknife, + _Hey how bonnie_; + And he's twined her o' her ain sweet life, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.' + +The other reading is that adopted in the text. This ballad is +popular in the southern parishes of Perthshire: but where the scene +is laid the editor has been unable to ascertain. Nor has any +research of his enabled him to throw farther light on the history of +its hero with the fantastic name, than what the ballad itself +supplies." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 88. + +Another version is subjoined, from Kinloch's collection. + +This ballad is found in Danish; _Herr Truels's Doettre_, _Danske +Viser_, No. 164. In a note the editor endeavors to show that the +story is based on fact! + + There were three ladies lived in a bower, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And they went out to pull a flower, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + They hadna pu'ed a flower but ane, 5 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + When up started to them a banisht man, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's ta'en the first sister by her hand, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 10 + And he's turned her round and made her stand, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + Or will ye die by my wee penknife," 15 + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "It's I'll not be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 20 + + He's killed this may and he's laid her by, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + For to bear the red rose company, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's taken the second ane by the hand, 25 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And he's turned her round and made her stand, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 30 + Or will ye die by my wee penknife," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "I'll not be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," 35 + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's killed this may and he's laid her by, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + For to bear the red rose company, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 40 + + He's taken the youngest ane by the hand, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And he's turned her round and made her stand, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + Says, "Will ye be a rank robber's wife, 45 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + Or will ye die by my wee penknife," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "I'll not be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 50 + Nor will I die by your wee penknife, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "For I hae a brother in this wood, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And gin ye kill me, it's he'll kill thee," 55 + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "What's thy brother's name? come tell to me," + _Eh vow bonnie_; + "My brother's name is Babylon," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 60 + + "O sister, sister, what have I done, + _Eh vow bonnie_? + O have I done this ill to thee, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "O since I've done this evil deed, 65 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + Good sall never be seen o' me," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's taken out his wee penknife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 70 + And he's twyned himsel o' his ain sweet life, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + + + +DUKE OF PERTH'S THREE DAUGHTERS. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 212. + + + The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, + Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; + And Elizabeth's to the greenwud gane, + To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. + + But she hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 5 + A double rose, but barely three, + Whan up and started a Loudon lord, + Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. + + "Will ye be called a robber's wife? + Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 10 + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, + I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 15 + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + Then out he's tane his little penknife, + And he's parted her and her sweet life, + And thrown her o'er a bank o' brume, + There never more for to be found. 20 + + The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, + Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; + And Margaret's to the greenwud gane, + To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. + + She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 25 + A double rose, but barely three, + When up and started a Loudon lord, + Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. + + "Will ye be called a robber's wife? + Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 30 + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, + I'll rather be sticket wi' your bloody knife, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 35 + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + Then out he's tane his little penknife, + And he's parted her and her sweet life, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free. 40 + + The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, + Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; + And Mary's to the greenwud gane, + To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. + + She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 45 + A double rose, but barely three, + When up and started a Loudon lord, + Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. + + "O will ye be called a robber's wife? + Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 50 + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, + I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 55 + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + But just as he took out his knife, + To tak frae her her ain sweet life, + Her brother John cam ryding bye, + And this bloody robber he did espy. 60 + + But when he saw his sister fair, + He kenn'd her by her yellow hair; + He call'd upon his pages three, + To find this robber speedilie. + + "My sisters twa that are dead and gane, 65 + For whom we made a heavy maene, + It's you that's twinn'd them o' their life, + And wi' your cruel bloody knife. + + Then for their life ye sair shall dree: + Ye sall be hangit on a tree, 70 + Or thrown into the poison'd lake, + To feed the toads and rattle-snake." + + + + +JELLON GRAME. + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 162. + + +"This ballad is published from tradition, with some conjectural +emendations. It is corrected by a copy in Mrs. Brown's MS., from +which it differs in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are +apparently modernized. + +"_Jellon_ seems to be the same name with _Jyllian_, or _Julian_. +'Jyl of Brentford's Testament' is mentioned in Warton's _History of +Poetry_, vol. ii. p. 40. The name repeatedly occurs in old ballads, +sometimes as that of a man, at other times as that of a woman. Of +the former is an instance in the ballad of _The Knight and the +Shepherd's Daughter_. [See this collection, vol. iii. p. 253.] + + 'Some do call me Jack, sweetheart, + And some do call me _Jille_.' + +"Witton Gilbert, a village four miles west of Durham, is, throughout +the bishopric, pronounced Witton Jilbert. We have also the common +name of Giles, always in Scotland pronounced Jill. For Gille, or +Juliana, as a female name, we have _Fair Gillian_ of Croyden, and a +thousand authorities. Such being the case, the Editor must enter his +protest against the conversion of _Gil_ Morrice into _Child_ +Maurice, an epithet of chivalry. All the circumstances in that +ballad argue, that the unfortunate hero was an obscure and very +young man, who had never received the honour of knighthood. At any +rate there can be no reason, even were internal evidence totally +wanting, for altering a well-known proper name, which, till of late +years, has been the uniform title of the ballad." SCOTT. + +_May-a-Row_, in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 231, is another, but +an inferior, version of this ballad. + + O Jellon Grame sat in Silverwood,[L1] + He sharp'd his broadsword lang; + And he has call'd his little foot-page + An errand for to gang. + + "Win up, my bonny boy," he says, 5 + "As quickly as ye may; + For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower + Before the break of day."-- + + The boy has buckled his belt about, + And through the green-wood ran; 10 + And he came to the ladye's bower + Before the day did dawn. + + "O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower? + The red sun's on the rain: + Ye're bidden come to Silverwood, 15 + But I doubt ye'll never win hame."-- + + She hadna ridden a mile, a mile, + A mile but barely three, + Ere she came to a new-made grave, + Beneath a green aik tree. 20 + + O then up started Jellon Grame, + Out of a bush thereby; + "Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower, + For it's here that ye maun lye."-- + + She lighted aff her milk-white steed, 25 + And kneel'd upon her knee; + "O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame, + For I'm no prepared to die! + + "Your bairn, that stirs between my sides, + Maun shortly see the light: 30 + But to see it weltering in my blood, + Would be a piteous sight."-- + + "O should I spare your life," he says, + "Until that bairn were born, + Full weel I ken your auld father 35 + Would hang me on the morn."-- + + "O spare my life, now, Jellon Grame! + My father ye needna dread: + I'll keep my babe in gude green-wood, + Or wi' it I'll beg my bread."-- 40 + + He took no pity on Lillie Flower, + Though she for life did pray; + But pierced her through the fair body + As at his feet she lay. + + He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower, 45 + Where she was lying dead; + But he felt some for the bonny bairn, + That lay weltering in her bluid. + + Up has he ta'en that bonny boy, + Given him to nurses nine; 50 + Three to sleep, and three to wake, + And three to go between. + + And he bred up that bonny boy, + Call'd him his sister's son; + And he thought no eye could ever see 55 + The deed that he had done. + + O so it fell upon a day, + When hunting they might be, + They rested them in Silverwood, + Beneath that green aik tree. 60 + + And many were the green-wood flowers + Upon the grave that grew, + And marvell'd much that bonny boy + To see their lovely hue. + + "What's paler than the prymrose wan? 65 + What's redder than the rose? + What's fairer than the lilye flower + On this wee know that grows?"-- + + O out and answer'd Jellon Grame, + And he spak hastilie-- 70 + "Your mother was a fairer flower, + And lies beneath this tree. + + "More pale she was, when she sought my grace, + Than prymrose pale and wan; + And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood, 75 + That down my broadsword ran."-- + + Wi' that the boy has bent his bow, + It was baith stout and lang; + An thro' and thro' him, Jellon Grame, + He gar'd an arrow gang. 80 + + Says,--"Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame! + My malisoun gang you wi'! + The place that my mother lies buried in + Is far too good for thee." + +1. Silverwood, mentioned in this ballad, occurs in a medley MS. +song, which seems to have been copied from the first edition of the +Aberdeen Cantus, _penes_ John G. Dalyell, Esq. advocate. One line +only is cited, apparently the beginning of some song:-- + + "Silverwood, gin ye were mine." SCOTT. + + + + +YOUNG JOHNSTONE. + + +A fragment of this fine ballad (which is commonly called _The Cruel +Knight_) was published by Herd, (i. 222,) and also by Pinkerton, +(_Select Scottish Ballads_, i. 69,) with variations. Finlay +constructed a nearly complete edition from two recited copies, but +suppressed some lines. (_Scottish Ballads_, ii. 72.) The present +copy is one which Motherwell obtained from recitation, with a few +verbal emendations by that editor from Finlay's. + +With respect to the sudden and strange catastrophe, Motherwell +remarks:-- + +"The reciters of old ballads frequently supply the best commentaries +upon them, when any obscurity or want of connection appears in the +poetical narrative. This ballad, as it stands, throws no light on +young Johnstone's motive for stabbing his lady; but the person from +whose lips it was taken down alleged that the barbarous act was +committed unwittingly, through young Johnstone's suddenly waking +from sleep, and, in that moment of confusion and alarm, unhappily +mistaking his mistress for one of his pursuers. It is not improbable +but the ballad may have had, at one time, a stanza to the above +effect, the substance of which is still remembered, though the words +in which it was couched have been forgotten." _Minstrelsy_, p. 193. + +Buchan's version, (_Lord John's Murder_, ii. 20,) it will be seen, +supplies this deficiency. + + Young Johnstone and the young Col'nel + Sat drinking at the wine: + "O gin ye wad marry my sister, + It's I wad marry thine." + + "I wadna marry your sister, 5 + For a' your houses and land; + But I'll keep her for my leman, + When I come o'er the strand. + + "I wadna marry your sister, + For a' your gowd so gay; 10 + But I'll keep her for my leman, + When I come by the way." + + Young Johnstone had a nut-brown sword, + Hung low down by his gair, + And he ritted[L15] it through the young Col'nel, 15 + That word he ne'er spak mair. + + But he's awa' to his sister's bower, + He's tirled at the pin: + "Whare hae ye been, my dear brither, + Sae late a coming in?" 20 + "I hae been at the school, sister, + Learning young clerks to sing." + + "I've dreamed a dreary dream this night, + I wish it may be for good; + They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, 25 + And the young Col'nel was dead." + + "Hawks and hounds they may seek me, + As I trow well they be; + For I have killed the young Col'nel, + And thy own true love was he." 30 + + "If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, + O dule and wae is me; + But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows, + And hae nae power to flee." + + And he's awa' to his true love's bower, 35 + He's tirled at the pin: + "Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone, + Sae late a coming in?" + "It's I hae been at the school," he says, + "Learning young clerks to sing." 40 + + "I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says, + "I wish it may be for good; + They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, + And the young Col'nel was dead." + + "Hawks and hounds they may seek me, 45 + As I trow well they be; + For I hae killed the young Col'nel, + And thy ae brother was he." + + "If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, + O dule and wae is me; 50 + But I care the less for the young Col'nel, + If thy ain body be free. + + "Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone, + Come in and take a sleep; + And I will go to my casement, 55 + And carefully I will thee keep." + + He had not weel been in her bower door, + No not for half an hour, + When four-and-twenty belted knights + Came riding to the bower. 60 + + "Well may you sit and see, Lady, + Well may you sit and say; + Did you not see a bloody squire + Come riding by this way?" + + "What colour were his hawks?" she says, 65 + "What colour were his hounds? + What colour was the gallant steed + That bore him from the bounds?" + + "Bloody, bloody were his hawks, + And bloody were his hounds; 70 + But milk-white was the gallant steed + That bore him from the bounds." + + "Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks, + And bloody were his hounds; + And milk-white was the gallant steed 75 + That bore him from the bounds. + + "Light down, light down now, gentlemen, + And take some bread and wine; + And the steed be swift that he rides on, + He's past the brig o' Lyne." 80 + + "We thank you for your bread, fair Lady, + We thank you for your wine; + But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound, + That bloody knight was ta'en." + + "Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone, 85 + Lie still and take a sleep; + For thy enemies are past and gone, + And carefully I will thee keep." + + But young Johnstone had a little wee sword, + Hung low down by his gair, 90 + And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast, + A deep wound and a sair. + + "What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone? + What aileth thee at me? + Hast thou not got my father's gold, 95 + Bot and my mither's fee?"[L96] + + "Now live, now live, my dear Ladye, + Now live but half an hour, + And there's no a leech in a' Scotland + But shall be in thy bower." 100 + + "How can I live, how shall I live? + Young Johnstone, do not you see + The red, red drops o' my bonny heart's blood + Rin trinkling down my knee? + + "But take thy harp into thy hand, 105 + And harp out owre yon plain, + And ne'er think mair on thy true love + Than if she had never been." + + He hadna weel been out o' the stable, + And on his saddle set, 110 + Till four-and-twenty broad arrows + Were thrilling in his heart. + +15. In the copy obtained by the Editor, the word "ritted" did not +occur, instead of which the word "stabbed" was used. The "nut-brown +sword" was also changed into "a little small sword." MOTHERWELL. + +96. Buchan's version furnishes the necessary explanation of Young +Johnstone's apparent cruelty:-- + + "Ohon, alas, my lady gay, + To come sae hastilié! + I thought it was my deadly foe, + Ye had trysted in to me." + + + + +YOUNG BENJIE. + + +From the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 10. _Bondsey and +Maisry_, another version of the same story, from Buchan's +collection, is given in the Appendix. + +"In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular +superstition, not yet altogether discredited in the wilder parts of +Scotland. The lykewake, or watching a dead body, in itself a +melancholy office, is rendered, in the idea of the assistants, more +dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of superstition. In the +interval betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is +supposed to hover round its mortal habitation, and, if invoked by +certain rites, retains the power of communicating, through its +organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such inquiries, however, are +always dangerous, and never to be resorted to, unless the deceased +is suspected to have suffered _foul play_, as it is called. It is +the more unsafe to tamper with this charm in an unauthorized manner, +because the inhabitants of the infernal regions are, at such +periods, peculiarly active. One of the most potent ceremonies in the +charm, for causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the door +ajar, or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland +sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar, while a corpse lies in the +house. The door must either be left wide open, or quite shut; but +the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise of +hospitality usual on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise +careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is +left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superstitious horror, the +first sight of it. + +"The following story, which is frequently related by the peasants of +Scotland, will illustrate the imaginary danger of leaving the door +ajar. In former times, a man and his wife lived in a solitary +cottage, on one of the extensive Border fells. One day the husband +died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid of staying alone +by the corpse, or leaving the dead body by itself, repeatedly went +to the door, and looked anxiously over the lonely moor for the sight +of some person approaching. In her confusion and alarm she +accidentally left the door ajar, when the corpse suddenly started +up, and sat in the bed, frowning and grinning at her frightfully. +She sat alone, crying bitterly, unable to avoid the fascination of +the dead man's eye, and too much terrified to break the sullen +silence, till a Catholic priest, passing over the wild, entered the +cottage. He first set the door quite open, then put his little +finger in his mouth, and said the paternoster backwards; when the +horrid look of the corpse relaxed, it fell back on the bed, and +behaved itself as a dead man ought to do. + +"The ballad is given from tradition. I have been informed by a lady, +[Miss Joanna Baillie,] of the highest literary eminence, that she +has heard a ballad on the same subject, in which the scene was laid +upon the banks of the Clyde. The chorus was, + + "O Bothwell banks bloom bonny," + +and the watching of the dead corpse was said to have taken place in +Bothwell church." SCOTT. + + Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland, + The fairest was Marjorie; + And young Benjie was her ae true love, + And a dear true love was he. + + And wow but they were lovers dear, 5 + And loved fu' constantlie; + But aye the mair when they fell out, + The sairer was their plea. + + And they hae quarrell'd on a day, + Till Marjorie's heart grew wae; 10 + And she said she'd chuse another luve, + And let young Benjie gae. + + And he was stout, and proud-hearted, + And thought o't bitterlie; + And he's gane by the wan moonlight, 15 + To meet his Marjorie. + + "O open, open, my true love, + O open, and let me in!"-- + "I darena open, young Benjie, + My three brothers are within."-- 20 + + "Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd, + Sae loud's I hear ye lie; + As I came by the Lowden banks, + They bade gude e'en to me. + + "But fare ye weel, my ae fause love, 25 + That I have loved sae lang! + It sets ye chuse another love, + And let young Benjie gang."-- + + Then Marjorie turn'd her round about, + The tear blinding her ee,-- 30 + "I darena, darena let thee in, + But I'll come down to thee."-- + + Then saft she smiled, and said to him, + "O what ill hae I done?"-- + He took her in his armis twa, 35 + And threw her o'er the linn. + + The stream was strang, the maid was stout, + And laith, laith to be dang, + But, ere she wan the Lowden banks, + Her fair colour was wan. 40 + + Then up bespak her eldest brother, + "O see na ye what I see?"-- + And out then spak her second brother, + "It's our sister Marjorie!"-- + + Out then spak her eldest brother, 45 + "O how shall we her ken?"-- + And out then spak her youngest brother, + "There's a honey mark on her chin."-- + + Then they've ta'en up the comely corpse, + And laid it on the ground: 50 + "O wha has killed our ae sister, + And how can he be found? + + "The night it is her low lykewake, + The morn her burial day, + And we maun watch at mirk midnight, 55 + And hear what she will say."-- + + Wi' doors ajar, and candle light, + And torches burning clear, + The streikit corpse, till still midnight, + They waked, but naething hear. 60 + + About the middle o' the night, + The cocks began to craw; + And at the dead hour o' the night, + The corpse began to thraw. + + "O whae has done the wrang, sister, 65 + Or dared the deadly sin? + Whae was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout, + As thraw ye o'er the linn?" + + "Young Benjie was the first ae man + I laid my love upon; 70 + He was sae stout and proud-hearted, + He threw me o'er the linn."-- + + "Sall we young Benjie head, sister, + Sall we young Benjie hang, + Or sall we pike out his twa gray een, 75 + And punish him ere he gang?" + + "Ye maunna Benjie head, brothers, + Ye maunna Benjie hang, + But ye maun pike out his twa gray een, + And punish him ere he gang. 80 + + "Tie a green gravat round his neck, + And lead him out and in, + And the best ae servant about your house + To wait young Benjie on. + + "And aye, at every seven years' end, 85 + Ye'l tak him to the linn; + For that's the penance he maun dree, + To scug his deadly sin." + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +LORD BARNABY. + +Scottish version of _Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard_. See p. 15. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 170. + + + "I have a tower in Dalisberry, + Which now is dearly dight, + And I will gie it to young Musgrave + To lodge wi' me a' night." + + "To lodge wi' thee a' night, fair lady, 5 + Wad breed baith sorrow and strife; + For I see by the rings on your fingers, + You're good lord Barnaby's wife." + + "Lord Barnaby's wife although I be, + Yet what is that to thee? 10 + For we'll beguile him for this ae night-- + He's on to fair Dundee. + + "Come here, come here, my little foot-page, + This gold I will give thee, + If ye will keep thir secrets close 15 + 'Tween young Musgrave and me. + + "But here I hae a little pen-knife, + Hings low down by my gare; + Gin ye winna keep thir secrets close, + Ye'll find it wonder sair." 20 + + Then she's ta'en him to her chamber, + And down in her arms lay he: + The boy coost aff his hose and shoon, + And ran to fair Dundee. + + When he cam to the wan water, 25 + He slack'd[L26] his bow and swam; + And when he cam to growin grass, + Set down his feet and ran. + + And when he cam to fair Dundee, + Wad neither chap nor ca'; 30 + But set his brent[L31] bow to his breast, + And merrily jump'd the wa'. + + "O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, + Waken, and come away!"-- + "What ails, what ails my wee foot-page, 35 + He cries sae lang ere day. + + "O is my bowers brent, my boy? + Or is my castle won? + Or has the lady that I lo'e best + Brought me a daughter or son?" 40 + + "Your ha's are safe, your bowers are safe, + And free frae all alarms; + But, oh! the lady that ye lo'e best + Lies sound in Musgrave's arms." + + "Gae saddle to me the black," he cried, 45 + "Gae saddle to me the gray; + Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed, + To hie me on my way." + + "O lady, I heard a wee horn toot, + And it blew wonder clear; 50 + And ay the turning o' the note, + Was, 'Barnaby will be here!' + + "I thought I heard a wee horn blaw, + And it blew loud and high; + And ay at ilka turn it said, 55 + 'Away, Musgrave, away!'" + + "Lie still, my dear; lie still, my dear; + Ye keep me frae the cold; + For it is but my father's shepherds + Driving their flocks to the fold." 60 + + Up they lookit, and down they lay, + And they're fa'en sound asleep; + Till up stood good lord Barnaby, + Just close at their bed feet. + + "How do you like my bed, Musgrave? 65 + And how like ye my sheets? + And how like ye my fair lady, + Lies in your arms and sleeps? + + "Weel like I your bed, my lord, + And weel like I your sheets; 70 + But ill like I your fair lady, + Lies in my arms and sleeps. + + "You got your wale o' se'en sisters, + And I got mine o' five; + Sae tak ye mine, and I's tak thine, 75 + And we nae mair sall strive." + + "O my woman's the best woman + That ever brak world's bread; + And your woman's the worst woman + That ever drew coat o'er head. 80 + + "I hae twa swords in ae scabbert, + They are baith sharp and clear; + Take ye the best, and I the warst, + And we'll end the matter here. + + "But up, and arm thee, young Musgrave, 85 + We'll try it han' to han'; + It's ne'er be said o' lord Barnaby, + He strack at a naked man." + + The first straik that young Musgrave got, + It was baith deep and sair; 90 + And down he fell at Barnaby's feet, + And word spak never mair. + + * * * * * * + + "A grave, a grave!" lord Barnaby cried, + "A grave to lay them in; + My lady shall lie on the sunny side, 95 + Because of her noble kin." + + But oh, how sorry was that good lord, + For a' his angry mood, + Whan he beheld his ain young son + All welt'ring in his blood! 100 + +26. For _slack'd_ read _bent_. J. + +[NOTE.] [In v. 31] the term "_braid_ bow" has been altered by the +editor into "_brent_ bow," i. e. _straight_, or _unbent_ bow. In +most of the old ballads, where a page is employed as the bearer of a +message, we are told, that, + + "When he came to wan water, + He _bent_ his bow and swam;" + +And + + "He set his _bent_ bow to his breast, + And lightly lap the wa'," &c. + +The application of the term _bent_, in the latter instance, does not +seem correct, and is probably substituted for _brent_. + +In the establishment of a feudal baron, every thing wore a military +aspect; he was a warrior by profession; every man attached to him, +particularly those employed about his person, was a soldier; and his +little foot-page was very appropriately equipped in the light +accoutrements of an archer. His bow, in the old ballad, seems as +inseparable from his character as the bow of Cupid or of Apollo, or +the caduceus of his celestial prototype Mercury. This bow, which he +carried unbent, he seems to have _bent_ when he had occasion to +swim, in order that he might the more easily carry it in his teeth, +to prevent the string from being injured by getting wet. At other +times he availed himself of its length and elasticity in the +_brent_, or straight state, and used it (as hunters do a leaping +pole) in vaulting over the wall of the outer court of a castle, when +his business would not admit of the tedious formality of blowing a +horn, or ringing a bell, and holding a long parley with the porter +at the gate, before he could gain admission. This, at least, appears +to the editor to be the meaning of these passages in the old +ballads. JAMIESON. + + + + +CHILDE MAURICE. See p. 30. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 8. + + + Childe Maurice hunted i' the silver[L1] wood, + He hunted it round about, + And noebody yt he found theren, + Nor noebody without. + + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + And tooke his silver combe in his hand 5 + To kembe his yellow lockes. + + He sayes, "come hither, thou litle footpage, + That runneth lowly by my knee; + Ffor thou shalt goe to John Steward's wiffe, + And pray her speake with mee. 10 + + "And as it ffalls out,[L11] many times + As knotts been knitt on a kell, + Or merchant men gone to leeve London, + Either to buy ware or sell, + + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + And grete thou doe that ladye well, 15 + Ever soe well ffroe mee. + + "And as it ffalls out, many times + As any harte can thinke, + As schoole masters are in any schoole house, + Writting with pen and inke, 20 + + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + Ffor if I might as well as shee may, + This night I wold with her speake. + + "And heere I send a mantle of greene, + As greene as any grasse, + And bid her come to the silver wood,[L25] 25 + To hunt with Child Maurice. + + "And there I send her a ring of gold, + A ring of precyous stone; + And bid her come to the silver wood, + Let for no kind of man." 30 + + One while this litle boy he yode, + Another while he ran; + Until he came to John Steward's hall, + Iwis he never blan. + + And of nurture the child had good; 35 + He ran up hall and bower ffree, + And when he came to this lady ffaire, + Sayes, "God you save and see. + + "I am come ffrom Childe Maurice, + A message unto thee, 40 + And Childe Maurice he greetes you well, + And ever soe well ffrom me. + + "And as it ffalls out, oftentimes + As knotts been knitt on a kell, + Or merchant men gone to leeve London 45 + Either to buy or sell; + + "And as oftentimes he greetes you well, + As any hart can thinke, + Or schoolemaster in any schoole, + Wryting with pen and inke. 50 + + "And heere he sends a mantle of greene, + As greene as any grasse, + And he bidds you come to the silver wood, + To hunt with child Maurice. + + "And heere he sends you a ring of gold, 55 + A ring of precyous stone; + He prayes you to come to the silver wood, + Let for no kind of man." + + "Now peace, now peace, thou litle fotpage, + Ffor Christes sake I pray thee; 60 + Ffor if my lord heare one of those words, + Thou must be hanged hye." + + John Steward stood under the castle wall, + And he wrote the words every one; + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + + And he called unto his horssekeeper, 65 + "Make ready you my steede;" + And soe he did to his chamberlaine, + "Make readye then my weed." + + And he cast a lease upon his backe, + And he rode to the silver wood, 70 + And there he sought all about, + About the silver wood. + + And there he found him Childe Maurice, + Sitting upon a blocke, + With a silver combe in his hand, 75 + Kembing his yellow locke. + + He sayes, "how now, how now, Childe Maurice, + Alacke how may this bee?" + But then stood by him Childe Maurice, + And sayd these words trulye: 80 + + "I do not know your ladye," he said, + "If that I doe her see." + "Ffor thou hast sent her love tokens, + More now than two or three. + + "For thou hast sent her a mantle of greene, 85 + As greene as any grasse, + And bade her come to the silver wood, + To hunt with Childe Maurice. + + "And by my faith now, Childe Maurice, + The tane of us shall dye;" 90 + "Now by my troth," sayd Childe Maurice, + "And that shall not be I." + + But he pulled out a bright browne sword, + And dryed it on the grasse, + And soe fast he smote at John Steward, 95 + Iwis he never rest. + + Then hee pulled forth his bright browne sword, + And dryed itt on his sleeve, + And the ffirst good stroke John Steward stroke, + Child Maurice head he did cleeve. 100 + + And he pricked it on his swords poynt, + Went singing there beside, + And he rode till he came to the ladye ffaire, + Whereas his ladye lyed. + + And sayes, "dost thou know Child Maurice head, 105 + Iff that thou dost it see? + And llap it soft, and kisse itt offt, + Ffor thou lovedst him better than mee." + + But when shee looked on Child Maurice head, + Shee never spake words but three: 110 + "I never beare noe child but one, + And you have slain him trulye." + + Sayes, "wicked be my merry men all, + I gave meate, drinke, and clothe; + But cold they not have holden me, 115 + When I was in all that wrath! + + "Ffor I have slaine one of the courteousest knights + That ever bestrode a steede; + Soe have I done one of the fairest ladyes + That ever ware womans weede." 120 + +1. MS. silven. See vv. 25, 53, 70, 72. + +11. out out. + +25. Sic in MS. + + + + +CLERK SAUNDERS. See p. 45. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 83. + + +"The following copy was transmitted by Mrs. Arrott of Aberbrothick. +The stanzas, where the seven brothers are introduced, have been +enlarged from two fragments, which, although very defective in +themselves, furnished lines which, when incorporated with the text, +seemed to improve it. Stanzas 21 and 22, were written by the editor; +the idea of the _rose_ being suggested by the gentleman who recited, +but who could not recollect the language in which it was expressed." + +This copy of _Clerk Saunders_ bears traces of having been made up +from several sources. A portion of the concluding stanzas (v. +107-130) have a strong resemblance to the beginning and end of +_Proud Lady Margaret_ (vol. viii. 83, 278), which ballad is itself +in a corrupt condition. It may also be doubted whether the fragments +Jamieson speaks of did not belong to a ballad resembling _Lady +Maisry_, p. 78 of this volume. + +Accepting the ballad as it stands here, there is certainly likeness +enough in the first part to suggest a community of origin with the +Swedish ballad _Den Grymma Brodern_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, No. 86 +(translated in _Lit. and Rom. of Northern Europe_, p. 261). W. Grimm +mentions (_Altdän. Heldenl._, p. 519) a Spanish ballad, _De la +Blanca Niña_, in the _Romancero de Amberes_, in which the similarity +to _Den Grymma Brodern_ is very striking. The series of questions +(v. 30-62) sometimes appears apart from the story, and with a comic +turn, as in _Det Hurtige Svar_, _Danske V._, No. 204, or _Thore och +hans Syster_, Arwidsson, i. 358. In this shape they closely resemble +the familiar old song, _Our gudeman came hame at e'en_, Herd, +_Scottish Songs_, ii. 74. + + Clerk Saunders was an earl's son, + He liv'd upon sea-sand; + May Margaret was a king's daughter, + She liv'd in upper land. + + Clerk Saunders was an earl's son, 5 + Weel learned at the scheel; + May Margaret was a king's daughter; + They baith lo'ed ither weel. + + He's throw the dark, and throw the mark, + And throw the leaves o' green; 10 + Till he came to May Margaret's door, + And tirled at the pin. + + "O sleep ye, wake ye, May Margaret, + Or are ye the bower within?" + "O wha is that at my bower door, 15 + Sae weel my name does ken?" + "It's I, Clerk Saunders, your true love, + You'll open and lat me in. + + "O will ye to the cards, Margaret, + Or to the table to dine? 20 + Or to the bed, that's weel down spread, + And sleep when we get time." + + "I'll no go to the cards," she says, + "Nor to the table to dine; + But I'll go to a bed, that's weel down spread, 25 + And sleep when we get time." + + They were not weel lyen down, + And no weel fa'en asleep, + When up and stood May Margaret's brethren, + Just up at their bed feet. 30 + + "O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, + And dinna to us len, + O wha is aught yon noble steed, + That stands your stable in? + + "The steed is mine, and it may be thine, 35 + To ride whan ye ride in hie---- + + * * * * * * * + + "But awa', awa', my bald brethren, + Awa', and mak nae din; + For I am as sick a lady the nicht + As e'er lay a bower within." 40 + + "O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, + And dinna to us len, + O wha is aught yon noble hawk, + That stands your kitchen in?" + + "The hawk is mine, and it may be thine, 45 + To hawk whan ye hawk in hie---- + + * * * * * * * + + "But awa', awa', my bald brethren! + Awa', and mak nae din; + For I'm ane o' the sickest ladies this nicht + That e'er lay a bower within." 50 + + "O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, + And dinna to us len, + O wha is that, May Margaret, + You and the wa' between?" + + "O it is my bower-maiden," she says, 55 + "As sick as sick can be; + O it is my bower maiden," she says, + And she's thrice as sick as me." + + "We hae been east, and we've been west, + And low beneath the moon; 60 + But a' the bower-women e'er we saw + Hadna goud buckles in their shoon." + + Then up and spak her eldest brither, + Ay in ill time spak he: + "It is Clerk Saunders, your true love, 65 + And never mat I the, + But for this scorn that he has done, + This moment he sall die." + + But up and spak her youngest brother, + Ay in good time spak he: 70 + "O but they are a gudelie pair!-- + True lovers an ye be, + The sword that hangs at my sword belt + Sall never sinder ye!" + + Syne up and spak her nexten brother, 75 + And the tear stood in his ee: + "You've lo'ed her lang, and lo'ed her weel, + And pity it wad be, + The sword that hangs at my sword-belt + Shoud ever sinder ye!" 80 + + But up and spak her fifthen brother, + "Sleep on your sleep for me; + But we baith sall never sleep again, + For the tane o' us sall die!" + + [But up and spak her midmaist brother; 85 + And an angry laugh leugh he: + "The thorn that dabs, I'll cut it down, + Though fair the rose may be. + + "The flower that smell'd sae sweet yestreen + Has lost its bloom wi' thee; 90 + And though I'm wae it should be sae, + Clerk Saunders, ye maun die."] + + And up and spak her thirden brother, + Ay in ill time spak he: + "Curse on his love and comeliness!-- 95 + Dishonour'd as ye be, + The sword that hangs at my sword-belt + Sall quickly sinder ye!" + + Her eldest brother has drawn his sword; + Her second has drawn anither; 100 + Between Clerk Saunders' hause and collar bane + The cald iron met thegither. + + "O wae be to you, my fause brethren, + And an ill death mat ye die! + Ye mith slain Clerk Saunders in open field, 105 + And no in the bed wi' me." + + When seven years were come and gane, + Lady Margaret she thought lang; + And she is up to the hichest tower, + By the lee licht o' the moon. 110 + + She was lookin o'er her castle high, + To see what she might fa'; + And there she saw a grieved ghost + Comin waukin o'er the wa'.[L114] + + "O are ye a man of mean," she says, 115 + "Seekin ony o' my meat? + Or are you a rank robber, + Come in my bower to break?" + + "O I'm Clerk Saunders, your true love; + Behold, Margaret, and see, 120 + And mind, for a' your meikle pride, + Sae will become of thee." + + "Gin ye be Clerk Saunders, my true love, + This meikle marvels me: + O wherein is your bonny arms 125 + That wont to embrace me?" + + "By worms they're eaten, in mools they're rotten, + Behold, Margaret, and see; + And mind, for a' your mickle pride, + Sae will become o' thee!" 130 + + * * * * * * * + + O, bonny, bonny sang the bird, + Sat on the coil o' hay; + But dowie, dowie was the maid, + That follow'd the corpse o' clay. + + "Is there ony room at your head, Saunders, 135 + Is there ony room at your feet? + Is there ony room at your twa sides, + For a lady to lie and sleep?" + + "There is nae room at my head, Margaret, + As little at my feet; 140 + There is nae room at my twa sides, + For a lady to lie and sleep. + + "But gae hame, gae hame, now, May Margaret, + Gae hame and sew your seam; + For if ye were laid in your weel-made bed, 145 + Your days will nae be lang." + +114. The _wa'_ here is supposed to mean the wall, which, in some +old castles, surrounded the court. J. + + + + +LORD WA'YATES AND AULD INGRAM. + +A FRAGMENT. See p. 72. + +Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 265. + +"From Mr. Herd's MS., transmitted by Mr. Scott." + + + Lady Maisery was a lady fair, + She made her mother's bed; + Auld Ingram was an aged knight, + And her he sought to wed. + + "Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram, 5 + For to seek me to spouse; + For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, + Has been into my bowers. + + "Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram, + For to seek me to wed; 10 + For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, + Has been into my bed." + + He has brocht to this ladie + The robis of the brown; + And ever, "Alas!" says this ladie, 15 + "Thae robes will put me down." + + And he has brocht to that ladie + The robis of the red; + And ever, "Alas!" says that ladie, + "Thae robes will be my dead." 20 + + And he has brocht to that ladie + The chrystal and the laumer; + Sae has he brocht to her mither + The curches o' the cannel. + + Every ane o' her seven brethren 25 + They had a hawk in hand, + And every lady in the place + They got a goud garland. + + Every cuik in that kitchen + They got a noble claith; 30 + A' was blyth at auld Ingram's coming, + But Lady Maisery was wraith. + + "Whare will I get a bonny boy, + Wad fain win hose and shoon, + That wad rin on to my Wa'yates, 35 + And quickly come again?" + + "Here am I, a bonny boy, + Wad fain win hose and shoon; + Wha will rin on to your Wa'yates, + And quickly come again." 40 + + "Ye'll bid him, and ye'll pray him baith, + Gin ony prayer may dee, + To Marykirk to come the morn, + My weary wadding to see." + + Lord Wa'yates lay o'er his castle wa', 45 + Beheld baith dale and down; + And he beheld a bonny boy + Come running to the town. + + "What news, what news, ye bonny boy? + What news hae ye to me? 50 + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + + "O are my ladie's fauldis brunt, + Or are her towers won? + Or is my Maisery lichter yet + O' a dear dochter or son?" + + "Your ladie's faulds are neither brunt, 55 + Nor are her towers won; + Nor is your Maisery lichter yet + O' a dear dochter or son: + + "But she bids you, and she prays you baith, + Gin ony prayer can dee, 60 + To Mary Kirk to come the morn, + Her weary wadding to see." + + He dang the buird up wi' his fit, + Sae did he wi' his knee; + The silver cup, that was upon't, 65 + I' the fire he gar'd it flee: + "O whatten a lord in a' Scotland + Dare marry my Maisery? + + "O it is but a feeble thocht, + To tell the tane and nae the tither; 70 + O it is but a feeble thocht + To tell it's your ain mither's brither." + + "Its I will send to that wadding, + And I will follow syne, + The fitches o' the fallow deer, 75 + And the gammons o' the swine; + And the nine hides o' the noble cow-- + 'Twas slain in season time. + + "Its I will send to that wadding + Ten tun o' the red wine; 80 + And mair I'll send to that waddin', + And I will follow syne." + + Whan he came in into the ha', + Lady Maisery she did ween; + And twenty times he kist her mou', 85 + Afore auld Ingram's een. + + And till the kirk she wadna gae, + Nor tillt she wadna ride, + Till four-and-twenty men she gat her before, + And twenty on ilka side, 90 + And four-and-twenty milk white dows, + To flee aboon her head. + + A loud lauchter gae Lord Wa'yates, + 'Mang the mids o' his men; + "Marry that lady wha that will, 95 + A maiden she is nane." + + "O leuch ye at my men, Wa'yates, + Or did ye lauch at me? + Or leuch ye at the bierdly bride, + That's gaun to marry me?" 100 + + "I leuchna at your men, uncle, + Nor yet leuch I at thee; + But I leuch at my lands so braid, + Sae weel's I do them see." + + When e'en was come, and e'en-bells rung, 105 + And a' man gane to bed, + The bride but and the silly bridegroom + In ae chamber were laid. + + Wasna't a fell thing for to see + Twa heads upon a cod; 110 + Lady Maisery's like the mo'ten goud, + Auld Ingram's like a toad. + + He turn'd his face unto the stock, + And sound he fell asleep; + She turn'd her face unto the wa', 115 + And saut tears she did weep. + + It fell about the mirk midnicht, + Auld Ingram began to turn him; + He put his hand on's ladie's side, + And waly, sair was she mournin'. 120 + + "What aileth thee, my lady dear? + Ever alas, and wae is me! + There is a babe betwixt thy sides,-- + Oh! sae sair's it grieves me!" + + "O didna I tell ye, auld Ingram, 125 + Ere ye socht me to wed, + That Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, + Had been into my bed?" + + "Then father that bairn on me, Maisery, + O father that bairn on me; 130 + And ye sall hae a rigland shire + Your mornin' gift to be." + + "O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery, + "That ever the like me befa', + To father my bairn on auld Ingram, 135 + Lord Wa'yates in my father's ha'. + + "O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery, + "That ever the like betide, + To father my bairn on auld Ingram, + And Lord Wa'yates beside." 140 + + * * * * * * * + + + + +SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR MAISRY. See p. 79. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 97. + + + "Hey love Willie, and how love Willie, + And Willie my love shall be; + They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie; + It's mair than man can dee. + + "Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed, 5 + A milk-white steed or gray; + And carry me on to gude greenwood + Before that it be day." + + He mounted her upon a steed, + He chose a steed o' gray; 10 + He had her on to gude greenwood + Before that it was day. + + "O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie? + Or will ye gang wi' me? + Or will ye ha'e a bower woman, 15 + To stay ere it be day?" + + "I winna gang to the cards," she said, + "Nor will I gae wi' thee, + Nor will I hae a bower woman, + To spoil my modestie. 20 + + "Ye'll gie me a lady at my back, + An' a lady me beforn; + An' a midwife at my twa sides + Till your young son be born. + + "Ye'll do me up, and further up, 25 + To the top o' yon greenwood tree; + For every pain myself shall ha'e, + The same pain ye maun drie." + + The first pain that did strike sweet Willie, + It was into the side; 30 + Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, + "These pains are ill to bide." + + The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie, + It was into the back; + Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, 35 + "These pains are women's wreck." + + The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie, + It was into the head; + Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, + "I fear my lady's dead." 40 + + Then he's gane on, and further on, + At the foot o' yon greenwood tree; + There he got his lady lighter, + Wi' his young son on her knee. + + Then he's ta'en up his little young son, 45 + And kiss'd him cheek and chin; + And he is on to his mother, + As fast as he could gang. + + "Ye will take in my son, mother, + Gi'e him to nurses nine; 50 + Three to wauk, and three to sleep, + And three to gang between." + + Then he has left his mother's house, + And frae her he has gane; + And he is back to his lady, 55 + And safely brought her hame. + + Then in it came her father dear, + Was belted in a brand; + "It's nae time for brides to lye in bed, + When the bridegroom's send's in town. 60 + + "There are four-and-twenty noble lords + A' lighted on the green; + The fairest knight amang them a', + He must be your bridegroom." + + "O wha will shoe my foot, my foot? 65 + And wha will glove my hand? + And wha will prin my sma' middle, + Wi' the short prin and the lang?" + + Now out it speaks him, sweet Willie, + Who knew her troubles best; 70 + "It is my duty for to serve, + As I'm come here as guest. + + "Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry, + And I will glove your hand, + And I will prin your sma' middle, 75 + Wi' the sma' prin and the lang." + + "Wha will saddle my steed," she says, + "And gar my bridle ring? + And wha will ha'e me to gude church-door, + This day I'm ill abound?" 80 + + "I will saddle your steed, Maisry, + And gar your bridle ring; + And I'll hae you to gude church-door, + And safely set you down." + + "O healy, healy take me up, 85 + And healy set me down; + And set my back until a wa', + My foot to yird-fast stane." + + He healy took her frae her horse, + And healy set her down; 90 + And set her back until a wa', + Her foot to yird-fast stane. + + When they had eaten and well drunken, + And a' had thorn'd fine; + The bride's father he took the cup, 95 + For to serve out the wine. + + Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother, + An ill death mat he die! + "I fear our bride she's born a bairn, + Or else has it a dee." 100 + + She's ta'en out a Bible braid, + And deeply has she sworn; + "If I ha'e born a bairn," she says, + "Sin' yesterday at morn; + + "Or if I've born a bairn," she says, 105 + "Sin' yesterday at noon; + There's nae a lady amang you a' + That wou'd been here sae soon." + + Then out it spake the bridegroom's man, + Mischance come ower his heel! 110 + "Win up, win up, now bride," he says, + "And dance a shamefu' reel."[L112] + + Then out it speaks the bride hersell, + And a sorry heart had she; + "Is there nae ane amang you a' 115 + Will dance this dance for me?" + + Then out it speaks him, sweet Willie, + And he spake aye thro' pride; + "O draw my boots for me, bridegroom, + Or I dance for your bride." 120 + + Then out it spake the bride hersell, + "O na, this maunna be; + For I will dance this dance mysell, + Tho' my back shou'd gang in three." + + She hadna well gane thro' the reel, 125 + Nor yet well on the green, + Till she fell down at Willie's feet + As cauld as ony stane. + + He's ta'en her in his arms twa, + And ha'ed her up the stair; 130 + Then up it came her jolly bridegroom, + Says, "What's your business there?" + + Then Willie lifted up his foot, + And dang him down the stair; + And brake three ribs o' the bridegroom's side, 135 + And a word he spake nae mair. + + Nae meen was made for that lady, + When she was lying dead; + But a' was for him, sweet Willie, + On the fields for he ran mad. 140 + +112. The first reel, danced with the bride, her maiden, and two +young men, and called the Shame Spring, or Reel, as the bride +chooses the tune that is to be played. B. + + + + +LADY MARJORIE. See p. 92. + + +"Given from the recitation of an old woman in Kilbarchan, +Renfrewshire, from whom the Editor has obtained several valuable +pieces of a like nature. In singing, O is added at the end of the +second and fourth line of each stanza." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, +p. 234. + + Lady Marjorie was her mother's only daughter, + Her father's only heir; + And she is awa to Strawberry Castle, + To get some unco lair. + + She had na been in Strawberry Castle 5 + A twelvemonth and a day, + Till Lady Marjorie she gangs big wi' child, + As big as she can gae. + + Word is to her father gane, + Before he got on his shoon, 10 + That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child, + And it is to an Irish groom. + + But word is to her mother gone, + Before she got on her goun, + That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child 15 + To a lord of high renown. + + "O wha will put on the pat," they said, + "Or wha will put on the pan, + Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire, + To burn Lady Marjorie in?" 20 + + Her father he put on the pat, + Her sister put on the pan, + And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire, + To burn Lady Marjorie in; + And her mother she sat in a golden chair, 25 + To see her daughter burn. + + "But where will I get a pretty little boy, + That will win hose and shoon; + That will go quickly to Strawberry Castle, + And bid my lord come doun?" 30 + + "O here am I, a pretty little boy, + That will win hose and shoon; + That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle, + And bid thy lord come doun." + + O when he cam to broken brigs, 35 + He bent his bow and swam; + And when he cam to gude dry land, + He set doun his foot and ran. + + When he cam to Strawberry Castle, + He tirled at the pin; 40 + Nane was sae ready as the gay lord himsell + To open and let him in. + + "O is there any of my towers burnt, + Or any of my castles won? + Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed, 45 + Of a daughter or a son?" + + "O there is nane of thy towers burnt, + Nor nane of thy castles broken; + But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die, + To be burnt in a fire of oaken." 50 + + "O gar saddle to me the black," he says, + "Gar saddle to me the broun; + Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed + That e'er carried a man frae toun!" + + He left the black into the slap, 55 + The broun into the brae; + But fair fa' that bonnie apple-gray + That carried this gay lord away! + + "Beet on, beet on, my brother dear, + I value you not one straw; 60 + For yonder comes my ain true luve, + I hear his horn blaw. + + "Beet on, beet on, my father dear, + I value you not a pin; + For yonder comes my ain true luve, 65 + I hear his bridle ring." + + He took a little horn out of his pocket, + And he blew't baith loud and schill; + And wi' the little life that was in her, + She hearken'd to it full weel. 70 + + But when he came into the place, + He lap unto the wa'; + He thought to get a kiss o' her bonnie lips, + But her body fell in twa! + + "O vow! O vow! O vow!" he said, 75 + "O vow! but ye've been cruel: + Ye've taken the timber out of my ain wood, + And burnt my ain dear jewel! + + "Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, + I'll burn baith father and mother; 80 + And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, + I'll burn baith sister and brother. + + "And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, + I'll burn baith kith and kin; + But I'll aye remember the pretty little boy 85 + That did thy errand rin." + + + + +LEESOME BRAND. + + +Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 38. This is properly +a tragic story, as may be perceived by comparing the present +corrupted version (evidently made up from several different sources) +with the Danish and Swedish ballads. See _Herr Medelvold_, _Danske +Viser_, iii. 361, _Die wahrsagenden Nachtigallen_, in Grimm's +_Altdänische Heldenlieder_, p. 88, _Fair Midel and Kirsten Lyle_, +translated by Jamieson, _Illustrations_, p. 377; and _Herr Redevall_, +_Svenska Folkvisor_, ii. 189, _Krist' Lilla och Herr Tideman_, +Arwidsson, i. 352, _Sir Wal and Lisa Lyle_, translated by Jamieson, +p. 373. + + My boy was scarcely ten years auld, + Whan he went to an unco land, + Where wind never blew, nor cocks ever crew, + Ohon! for my son, Leesome Brand. + + Awa' to that king's court he went, 5 + It was to serve for meat an' fee; + Gude red gowd it was his hire, + And lang in that king's court stay'd he. + + He hadna been in that unco land, + But only twallmonths twa or three; 10 + Till by the glancing o' his ee, + He gain'd the love o' a gay ladye. + + This ladye was scarce eleven years auld, + When on her love she was right bauld; + She was scarce up to my right knee, 15 + When oft in bed wi' men I'm tauld. + + But when nine months were come and gane, + This ladye's face turn'd pale and wane; + To Leesome Brand she then did say, + "In this place I can nae mair stay. 20 + + "Ye do you to my father's stable, + Where steeds do stand baith wight and able; + Strike ane o' them upo' the back, + The swiftest will gie his head a wap. + + "Ye take him out upo' the green, 25 + And get him saddled and bridled seen; + Get ane for you, anither for me, + And lat us ride out ower the lee. + + "Ye do you to my mother's coffer, + And out of it ye'll take my tocher; 30 + Therein are sixty thousand pounds, + Which all to me by right belongs." + + He's done him to her father's stable, + Where steeds stood baith wicht and able; + Then he strake ane upon the back, 35 + The swiftest gae his head a wap. + + He's ta'en him out upo' the green, + And got him saddled and bridled seen; + Ane for him, and another for her, + To carry them baith wi' might and virr. 40 + + He's done him to her mother's coffer, + And there he's taen his lover's tocher; + Wherein were sixty thousand pounds, + Which all to her by right belong'd. + + When they had ridden about six mile, 45 + His true love then began to fail; + "O wae's me," said that gay ladye, + "I fear my back will gang in three! + + "O gin I had but a gude midwife,[L49] + Here this day to save my life, 50 + And ease me o' my misery, + O dear, how happy I wou'd be!" + + "My love, we're far frae ony town; + There is nae midwife to be foun'; + But if ye'll be content wi' me, 55 + I'll do for you what man can dee." + + "For no, for no, this maunna be," + Wi' a sigh, replied this gay ladye; + "When I endure my grief and pain, + My companie ye maun refrain. 60 + + "Ye'll take your arrow and your bow, + And ye will hunt the deer and roe; + Be sure ye touch not the white hynde, + For she is o' the woman kind." + + He took sic pleasure in deer and roe, 65 + Till he forgot his gay ladye; + Till by it came that milk-white hynde, + And then he mind on his ladye syne. + + He hasted him to yon greenwood tree, + For to relieve his gay ladye; 70 + But found his ladye lying dead, + Likeways her young son at her head. + + His mother lay ower her castle wa', + And she beheld baith dale and down; + And she beheld young Leesome Brand, 75 + As he came riding to the town. + + "Get minstrels for to play," she said, + "And dancers to dance in my room; + For here comes my son, Leesome Brand, + And he comes merrilie to the town." 80 + + "Seek nae minstrels to play, mother, + Nor dancers to dance in your room; + But tho' your son comes, Leesome Brand, + Yet he comes sorry to the town. + + "O I hae lost my gowden knife, 85 + I rather had lost my ain sweet life; + And I hae lost a better thing, + The gilded sheath that it was in." + + "Are there nae gowdsmiths here in Fife, + Can make to you anither knife? 90 + Are there nae sheath-makers in the land, + Can make a sheath to Leesome Brand?" + + "There are nae gowdsmiths here in Fife, + Can make me sic a gowden knife; + Nor nae sheath-makers in the land, 95 + Can make to me a sheath again. + + "There ne'er was man in Scotland born, + Ordain'd to be so much forlorn; + I've lost my ladye I lov'd sae dear, + Likeways the son she did me bear." 100 + + "Put in your hand at my bed head, + There ye'll find a gude grey horn; + In it three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude, + That hae been there sin' he was born. + + "Drap twa o' them o' your ladye, 105 + And ane upo' your little young son; + Then as lively they will be + As the first night ye brought them hame." + + He put his hand at her bed head, + And there he found a gude grey horn; 110 + Wi' three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude, + That had been there sin' he was born. + + Then he drapp'd twa on his ladye, + And ane o' them on his young son; + And now they do as lively be, 115 + As the first day he brought them hame. + +NOTE to v. 49-72.--A similar passage is found at p. 94 of this +volume, v. 33-36, also vol. v. p. 178, v. 97-108, and p. 402, v. +169-176, and in the Scandinavian ballads cited in the preface to +this ballad. In these last the lady frees herself from the presence +of the knight by sending him to get her some water, and she is found +dead on his return. This incident, remarks Grimm, (_Altdänische +Heldenlieder_, p. 508), is also found in _Wolfdietrich_, Str. +1680-96. + + + + +THE YOUTH OF ROSENGORD. See p. 219. + +_Sven i Rosengård_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 3, and Arwidsson's +_Fornsånger_, ii. 83: translated in _Literature and Romance of +Northern Europe_, i. 263. + + + "So long where hast thou tarried, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I have been into my stable, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 5 + + "What hast thou done in the stable, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I have watered the horses, + Our mother dear." + Long may ye look for me, or look for me never. 10 + + "Why is thy foot so bloody, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "The black horse has trampled me, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 15 + + "Why is thy sword so bloody, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I have murdered my brother, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 20 + + "Whither wilt thou betake thee, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I shall flee my country, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 25 + + "What will become of thy wedded wife, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "She must spin for her living, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 30 + + "What will become of thy children small, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "They must beg from door to door, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 35 + + "When comest thou back again, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "When the swan is black as night, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 40 + + "And when will the swan be black as night, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "When the raven shall be white as snow, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 45 + + "And when will the raven be white as snow, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "When the grey rocks take to flight, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 50 + + "And when will fly the grey rocks, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "The rocks they will fly never, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 55 + + + + +THE BLOOD-STAINED SON.--See p. 219. + +A translation, nearly word for word, of _Der Blutige Sohn_, printed +from oral tradition in Schröter's _Finnische Runen_, (_Finnisch und +Deutsch_,) ed. 1834, p. 151. + + + "Say whence com'st thou, say whence com'st thou, + Merry son of mine?" + "From the lake-side, from the lake-side, + O dear mother mine." + + "What hast done there, what hast done there, 5 + Merry son of mine?" + "Steeds I watered, steeds I watered, + O dear mother mine." + + "Why thus clay-bedaubed thy jacket, + Merry son of mine?" 10 + "Steeds kept stamping, steeds kept stamping, + O dear mother mine." + + "But how came thy sword so bloody, + Merry son of mine?" + "I have stabbed my only brother, 15 + O dear mother mine." + + "Whither wilt thou now betake thee, + Merry son of mine?" + "Far away to foreign countries, + O dear mother mine." 20 + + "Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired father, + Merry son of mine?" + "Let him chop wood in the forest, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 25 + + "Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired mother, + Merry son of mine?" + "Let her sit, her flax a-picking, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 30 + + "Where leav'st thou thy wife so youthful, + Merry son of mine?" + "Let her deck her, take another, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 35 + + "Where leav'st thou thy son so youthful, + Merry son of mine?" + "He to school, and bear the rod there, + [Never wish to see me more,] + O dear mother mine." 40 + + "Where leav'st thou thy youthful daughter, + Merry son of mine?" + "She to the wood and eat wild berries, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 45 + + "Home when com'st thou back from roaming, + Merry son of mine?" + "In the north when breaks the morning, + O dear mother mine." + + "In the north when breaks the morning, 50 + Merry son of mine?" + "When stones dance upon the water, + O dear mother mine." + + "When shall stones dance on the water, + Merry son of mine?" 55 + "When a feather sinks to the bottom, + O dear mother mine." + + "When shall feathers sink to the bottom, + Merry son of mine?" + "When we all shall come to judgment, 60 + O dear mother mine." + + + + +THE TWA BROTHERS. See p. 220. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 61. + + + There were twa brothers at the scule, + And when they got awa',-- + "It's will ye play at the stane-chucking, + Or will ye play at the ba', + Or will ye gae up to yon hill head, 5 + And there we'll warsel a fa'?" + + "I winna play at the stane-chucking, + Nor will I play at the ba'; + But I'll gae up to yon bonnie green hill, + And there we'll warsel a fa'." 10 + + They warsled up, they warsled down, + Till John fell to the ground; + A dirk fell out of William's pouch, + And gave John a deadly wound. + + "O lift me upon your back, 15 + Take me to yon well fair, + And wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, + And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair." + + He's lifted his brother upon his back, + Ta'en him to yon well fair; 20 + He's wash'd his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, + But they bleed ay mair and mair. + + "Tak ye aff my Holland sark, + And rive it gair by gair, + And row it in my bluidy wounds, 25 + And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair." + + He's taken aff his Holland sark, + And torn it gair by gair; + He's rowit it in his bluidy wounds, + But they bleed ay mair and mair. 30 + + "Tak now aff my green cleiding, + And row me saftly in; + And tak me up to yon kirk style, + Whare the grass grows fair and green." + + He's taken aff the green cleiding, 35 + And rowed him saftly in; + He's laid him down by yon kirk style, + Whare the grass grows fair and green. + + "What will ye say to your father dear, + When ye gae hame at e'en?" 40 + "I'll say ye're lying at yon kirk style, + Whare the grass grows fair and green." + + "O no, O no, my brother dear, + O you must not say so; + But say that I'm gane to a foreign land, 45 + Whare nae man does me know." + + When he sat in his father's chair, + He grew baith pale and wan: + "O what blude 's that upon your brow? + O dear son, tell to me." 50 + "It is the blude o' my gude gray steed, + He wadna ride wi' me." + + "O thy steed's blude was ne'er sae red, + Nor e'er sae dear to me: + O what blude 's this upon your cheek? 55 + O dear son, tell to me." + "It is the blude of my greyhound, + He wadna hunt for me." + + "O thy hound's blude was ne'er sae red, + Nor e'er sae dear to me: 60 + O what blude 's this upon your hand? + O dear son, tell to me." + "It is the blude of my gay goss hawk, + He wadna flee for me." + + "O thy hawk's blude was ne'er sae red, 65 + Nor e'er sae dear to me: + O what blude 's this upon your dirk? + Dear Willie, tell to me." + "It is the blude of my ae brother, + O dule and wae is me!" 70 + + "O what will ye say to your father? + Dear Willie, tell to me." + "I'll saddle my steed, and awa I'll ride + To dwell in some far countrie." + + "O when will ye come hame again? 75 + Dear Willie, tell to me." + "When sun and mune leap on yon hill, + And that will never be." + + She turn'd hersel' right round about, + And her heart burst into three: 80 + "My ae best son is deid and gane, + And my tother ane I'll ne'er see." + + + + +THE MILLER AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER. See p. 231. + + +From _Wit Restor'd_, (1658,) reprinted, London, 1817, i. 153. It is +there ascribed to "Mr. Smith," (Dr. James Smith, the author of many +of the pieces in that collection,) who may have written it down from +tradition, and perhaps added a verse or two. Mr. Rimbault has +printed the same piece from a broadside dated 1656, in _Notes and +Queries_, v. 591. A fragment of it is given from recitation at p. +316 of that volume, and a copy quite different from any before +published, at p. 102 of vol. vi. Although two or three stanzas are +ludicrous, and were probably intended for burlesque, this ballad is +by no means to be regarded as a parody. + + There were two sisters, they went a-playing, + _With a hie downe, downe, a downe a_; + To see their fathers ships sayling in. + _With a hy downe, downe, a downe o._ + + And when they came into the sea brym, + _With_, &c. + The elder did push the younger in. + _With_, &c. + + "O sister, O sister, take me by the gowne, 5 + _With_, &c. + And drawe me up upon the dry ground." + _With_, &c. + + "O sister, O sister, that may not bee, + _With_, &c. + Till salt and oatmeale grow both of a tree." + _With_, &c. + + Somtymes she sanke, somtymes she swam, + _With_, &c. + Untill she came unto the mildam. 10 + _With_, &c. + + The miller runne hastily downe the cliffe, + _With_, &c. + And up he betook her withouten her life. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her brest bone? + _With_, &c. + He made him a viall to play thereupon. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her fingers so small? 15 + _With_, &c. + He made him peggs to his violl withall. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her nose-ridge? + _With_, &c. + Unto his violl he made him a bridge. + _With_, &c. + + What did he do with her veynes so blewe? + _With_, &c. + He made him strings to his viole thereto. 20 + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her eyes so bright? + _With_, &c. + Upon his violl he played at first sight. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her tongue soe rough? + _With_, &c. + Unto the violl it spake enough. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her two shinnes? 25 + _With_, &c. + Unto the violl they danct Moll Syms. + _With_, &c. + + Then bespake the treble string, + _With_, &c. + "O yonder is my father the king." + _With_, &c. + + Then bespake the second string, + _With_, &c. + "O yonder sitts my mother the queen." 30 + _With_, &c. + + And then bespake the stringes all three, + _With_, &c. + "O yonder is my sister that drowned mee." + _With_, &c. + + Now pay the miller for his payne, + _With_, &c. + And let him bee gone in the divels name. + _With_, &c. + + + + +THE BONNY BOWS O' LONDON. See p. 231. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 128. + + + There were twa sisters in a bower, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And ae king's son hae courted them baith, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + He courted the youngest wi' broach and ring, 5 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + He courted the eldest wi' some other thing, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + It fell ance upon a day, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_, 10 + The eldest to the youngest did say, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_: + + "Will ye gae to yon Tweed mill dam," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_, + "And see our father's ships come to land?" 15 + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They baith stood up upon a stane, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The eldest dang the youngest in, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 20 + + She swimmed up, sae did she down, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + Till she came to the Tweed mill-dam, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + The miller's servant he came out, 25 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And saw the lady floating about, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + "O master, master, set your mill," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 30 + "There is a fish, or a milk-white swan," + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They could not ken her yellow hair, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + [For] the scales o' gowd that were laid there, 35 + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They could not ken her fingers sae white, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The rings o' gowd they were sae bright, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 40 + + They could not ken her middle sae jimp, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The stays o' gowd were so well laced, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They could not ken her foot sae fair, 45 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The shoes o' gowd they were so rare, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + Her father's fiddler he came by, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 50 + Upstarted her ghaist before his eye, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + "Ye'll take a lock o' my yellow hair," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + "Ye'll make a string to your fiddle there," 55 + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + "Ye'll take a lith o' my little finger bane," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + "And ye'll make a pin to your fiddle then," + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 60 + + He's ta'en a lock o' her yellow hair, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And made a string to his fiddle there, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + He's taen a lith o' her little finger bane, 65 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And he's made a pin to his fiddle then, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + The firstand spring the fiddle did play, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 70 + Said, "Ye'll drown my sister, as she's dune me." + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + + + +I. + +THE CROODLIN DOO. See _Lord Donald_, p. 244. + + +From Chambers's _Scottish Ballads_, p. 324. Other copies in _The +Scot's Musical Museum_, (1853,) vol. iv. 364*, and Buchan's _Ballads +of the North of Scotland_, ii. 179. + + "O whaur hae ye been a' the day, + My little wee croodlin doo?" + "O I've been at my grandmother's; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "O what gat ye at your grandmother's, 5 + My little wee croodlin doo?" + "I got a bonnie wee fishie; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "O whaur did she catch the fishie, + My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" 10 + "She catch'd it in the gutter-hole; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "And what did she do wi' the fish, + My little wee croodlin doo?" + "She boiled it in a brass pan; 15 + O mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "And what did ye do wi' the banes o't, + My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" + "I gied them to my little dog; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo," 20 + + "And what did your little doggie do, + My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" + "He stretch'd out his head, his feet, and dee'd, + And so will I, mammie, noo!" + + + + +II. + +THE SNAKE-COOK. + + +From oral tradition, in Erk's _Deutscher Leiderhort_, p. 6. Our +homely translation is, as far as possible, word for word. Other +German versions are _The Stepmother_, at p. 5 of the same +collection, (or Uhland, i. 272,) and _Grandmother Adder-cook_, at p. +7. The last is translated by Jamieson, _Illustrations of Northern +Antiquities_, p. 320. + + "Where hast thou been away so long, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "O I have been at my true-love's, + Lady mother, ah me! + _My young life, 5 + She has poisoned for me_." + + "What gave she thee to eat, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "She cooked me a speckled fish, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. 10 + + "And how many pieces cut she thee, + Henry my dearest son?" + "She cut three little pieces from it, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "Where left she then the third piece, 15 + Henry, my dearest son?" + "She gave it to her dark-brown dog, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "And what befell the dark-brown dog, + Henry, my dearest son?" 20 + "His belly burst in the midst in two, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "What wishest thou for thy father, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "I wish him a thousandfold boon and blessing, 25 + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "What wishest thou for thy mother, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "I wish for her eternal bliss, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. 30 + + "What wishest thou for thy true-love, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "I wish her eternal hell and torment, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + + + +III. + +THE CHILD'S LAST WILL. + + +_Den lillas Testamente: Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 13. Translated in +_Literature and Romance of Northern Europe_, i. 265. See also +Arwidsson's _Fornsånger_, ii. 90. + + "So long where hast thou tarried, + Little daughter dear?" + "I have tarried with my old nurse, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 5 + + "What gave she thee for dinner, + Little daughter dear?" + "A few small speckled fishes, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 10 + + "What didst thou do with the fish-bones, + Little daughter dear?" + "Gave them to the beagle, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 15 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy father, + Little daughter dear?" + "The blessedness of heaven, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 20 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy mother, + Little daughter dear?" + "All the joys of heaven, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 25 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy brother, + Little daughter dear?" + "A fleet ship on the waters, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 30 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy sister, + Little daughter dear?" + "Golden chests and caskets, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 35 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy step-mother, + Little daughter dear?" + "Of hell the bitter sorrow + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 40 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy old nurse, + Little daughter dear?" + "For her I wish the same pangs, + Sweet step-mother mine. + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 45 + + "But now the time is over + When I with you can stay; + The little bells of heaven + Are ringing me away." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 50 + + + + +THE THREE KNIGHTS. See p. 251. + + +From the second edition of Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, &c. +p. 68. + + There did three Knights come from the West, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And these three Knights courted one Lady, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + The first Knight came was all in white, 5 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And asked of her, if she'd be his delight, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + The next Knight came was all in green, + _With the high and the lily oh_! 10 + And asked of her, if she'd be his Queen, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + The third Knight came was all in red, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And asked of her, if she would wed, 15 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "Then have you asked of my Father dear, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + Likewise of her who did me bear? + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 20 + + "And have you asked of my brother John? + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And also of my sister Anne?" + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "Yes, I have asked of your Father dear, 25 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + Likewise of her who did you bear, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "And I have asked of your sister Anne, + _With the high and the lily oh_! 30 + But I've not asked of your brother John," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + [Here some verses seem to be wanting.] + + For on the road as they rode along, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + There did they meet with her brother John, 35 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + She stooped low to kiss him sweet, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + He to her heart did a dagger meet, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 40 + + "Ride on, ride on," cried the serving man, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "Methinks your bride she looks wond'rous wan," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "I wish I were on yonder stile, 45 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + For there I would sit and bleed awhile, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "I wish I were on yonder hill, + _With the high and the lily oh_! 50 + There I'd alight and make my will," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your Father dear?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "The gallant steed which doth me bear," 55 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your Mother dear?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "My wedding shift which I do wear, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 60 + + "But she must wash it very clean, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + For my heart's blood sticks in every seam," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your sister Anne?" 65 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "My gay gold ring, and my feathered fan," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your brother John?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! 70 + "A rope and gallows to hang him on," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your brother John's wife?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "A widow's weeds, and a quiet life," 75 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + + + +THE CRUEL MOTHER. See p. 262. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 222. + + + It fell ance upon a day, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + It fell ance upon a day, _Stirling for aye_; + It fell ance upon a day, + The clerk and lady went to play, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 5 + + "If my baby be a son, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + If my baby be a son, _Stirling for aye_; + If my baby be a son, + I'll make him a lord o' high renown," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 10 + + She's lean'd her back to the wa', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's lean'd her back to the wa', _Stirling for aye_; + She's lean'd her back to the wa', + Pray'd that her pains might fa', + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 15 + + She's lean'd her back to the thorn, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's lean'd her back to the thorn, _Stirling for aye_; + She's lean'd her back to the thorn, + There has her baby born, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 20 + + "O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, _Stirling for aye_; + O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, + You'll never suck by my side mair," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 25 + + She's riven the muslin frae her head, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's riven the muslin frae her head, _Stirling for aye_; + She's riven the muslin frae her head, + Tied the baby hand and feet, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 30 + + Out she took her little penknife, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + Out she took her little penknife, _Stirling for aye_; + Out she took her little penknife, + Twin'd the young thing o' its life, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 35 + + She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, _Stirling for aye_; + She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, + There laid her sweet baby in, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 40 + + She had her to her father's ha', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She had her to her father's ha', _Stirling for aye_; + She had her to her father's ha', + She was the meekest maid amang them a', + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 45 + + It fell ance upon a day, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + It fell ance upon a day, _Stirling for aye_; + It fell ance upon a day, + She saw twa babies at their play, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 50 + + "O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, _Stirling for aye_; + O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, + I'd cleathe you in the silks sae fine," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 55 + + "O wild mother, when we were thine, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + O wild mother, when we were thine, _Stirling for aye_; + O wild mother, when we were thine, + You cleath'd us not in silks sae fine, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 60 + + "But now we're in the heavens high, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + But now we're in the heavens high, _Stirling for aye_; + But now we're in the heavens high, + And you've the pains o' hell to try," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 65 + + She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', _Stirling for aye_; + She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', + There I wat she got a fa', + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 70 + + + + +THE MINISTER'S DOCHTER O' NEWARKE. + + +See p. 262. + +From _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, Percy +Society, vol. xvii. p. 51. This is the same ballad, with trifling +variations, as _The Minister's Daughter of New York_, Buchan, ii. +217. + + The Minister's dochter o' Newarke, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Has fa'en in luve wi' her father's clerk, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She courted him sax years and a day, 5 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + At length her fause-luve did her betray, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She did her doun to the green woods gang, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 10 + To spend awa' a while o' her time, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She lent her back unto a thorn, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_; + And she's got her twa bonnie boys born, 15 + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She's ta'en the ribbons frae her hair, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Boun' their bodies fast and sair, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 20 + + She's put them aneath a marble stane, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Thinkin' a may to gae her hame, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + Leukin' o'er her castel wa', 25 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + She spied twa bonny boys at the ba', + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "O bonny babies, if ye were mine, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 30 + I woud feed ye wi' the white bread and wine, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "I wou'd feed ye with the ferra cow's milk, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + An' dress ye i' the finest silk," 35 + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "O cruel mother, when we were thine, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + We saw nane o' your bread and wine, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 40 + + "We saw nane o' your ferra cow's milk, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Nor wore we o' your finest silk," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "O bonny babies, can ye tell me, 45 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + What sort o' death for ye I maun dee," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Yes, cruel mother, we'll tell to thee, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 50 + What sort o' death for us ye maun dee, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Seven years a fool i' the woods, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + "Seven years a fish i' the floods, 55 + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Seven years to be a church bell, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Seven years a porter i' hell," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 60 + + "Welcome, welcome, fool i' the wood, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Welcome, welcome, fish i' the flood, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Welcome, welcome, to be a church bell, 65 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + But heavens keep me out o' hell," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + + + +BONDSEY AND MAISRY. See p. 298. + + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 265. + + "O come along wi' me, brother, + Now come along wi' me; + And we'll gae seek our sister Maisry, + Into the water o' Dee." + + The eldest brother he stepped in, 5 + He stepped to the knee; + Then out he jump'd upo' the bank, + Says, "This water's nae for me." + + The second brother he stepped in, + He stepped to the quit; 10 + Then out he jump'd upo' the bank, + Says, "This water's wond'rous deep." + + When the third brother stepped in, + He stepped to the chin; + Out he got, and forward wade, 15 + For fear o' drowning him. + + The youngest brother he stepped in, + Took 's sister by the hand; + Said, "Here she is, my sister Maisry, + Wi' the hinny draps on her chin. 20 + + "O if I were in some bonny ship, + And in some strange countrie, + For to find out some conjurer, + To gar Maisry speak to me!" + + Then out it speaks an auld woman, 25 + As she was passing by; + "Ask of your sister what you want, + And she will speak to thee." + + "O sister, tell me who is the man, + That did your body win? 30 + And who is the wretch, tell me, likewise, + That threw you in the lin?" + + "O Bondsey was the only man + That did my body win; + And likewise Bondsey was the man 35 + That threw me in the lin." + + "O will we Bondsey head, sister? + Or will we Bondsey hang? + Or will we set him at our bow end, + Lat arrows at him gang?" 40 + + "Ye winna Bondsey head, brothers, + Nor will ye Bondsey hang; + But ye'll take out his twa grey e'en, + Make Bondsey blind to gang. + + "Ye'll put to the gate a chain o' gold, 45 + A rose garland gar make; + And ye'll put that in Bondsey's head, + A' for your sister's sake." + + + + +LADY DIAMOND. + + +From the Percy Society Publications, xvii. 71. The same in Buchan, +ii. 206. The ballad is given in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, under the +title of _Dysmal_, and by Aytoun, _Ballads of Scotland_, 2d ed., ii. +173, under that of _Lady Daisy_. All these names are corruptions of +Ghismonda, on whose well-known story (_Decamerone_, iv. 1, 9) the +present is founded.--This piece and the next might better have been +inserted at p. 347, as a part of the Appendix to Book III. + + There was a king, an' a curious king, + An' a king o' royal fame; + He had ae dochter, he had never mair, + Ladye Diamond was her name. + + She's fa'en into shame, an' lost her gude name, 5 + An' wrought her parents 'noy; + An' a' for her layen her luve so low, + On her father's kitchen boy. + + Ae nicht as she lay on her bed, + Just thinkin' to get rest, 10 + Up it came her old father, + Just like a wanderin' ghaist. + + "Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says, + "Rise up, put on your goun; + Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says, 15 + "For I fear ye gae too roun'." + + "Too roun I gae, yet blame me nae; + Ye'll cause me na to shame; + For better luve I that bonnie boy + Than a' your weel-bred men." 20 + + The king's ca'd up his wa'-wight men, + That he paid meat an' fee: + "Bring here to me that bonnie boy, + An' we'll smore him right quietlie." + + Up hae they ta'en that bonnie boy, 25 + Put him 'tween twa feather beds; + Naethin' was dane, nor naethin' said, + Till that bonnie bonnie boy was dead. + + The king's ta'en out a braid braid sword, + An' streak'd it on a strae; 30 + An' thro' an' thro' that bonnie boy's heart + He's gart cauld iron gae. + + Out has he ta'en his poor bluidie heart, + Set it in a tasse o' gowd, + And set it before ladye Diamonds face, 35 + Said "Fair ladye, behold!" + + Up has she ta'en this poor bludie heart, + An' holden it in her han'; + "Better luved I that bonnie bonnie boy + Than a' my father's lan'." 40 + + Up has she ta'en his poor bludie heart, + An' laid it at her head; + The tears awa' frae her eyne did flee, + An' ere midnicht she was dead. + + + + +THE WEST COUNTRY DAMOSELS COMPLAINT. + + +From Collier's _Book of Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 202. + +After a broadside "printed by P. Brooksby, at the Golden Bull in +Westsmith-field, neer the Hospitall Gate." The first ten or twelve +stanzas seem to be ancient. + + "When will you marry me, William, + And make me your wedded wife? + Or take you your keen bright sword, + And rid me out of my life." + + "Say no more then so,[L5] lady, 5 + Say you no more then so, + For you shall unto the wild forrest, + And amongst the buck and doe. + + "Where thou shalt eat of the hips and haws, + And the roots that are so sweet, 10 + And thou shalt drink of the cold water + That runs underneath your feet." + + Now had she not been in the wild forrest + Passing three months and a day, + But with hunger and cold she had her fill, 15 + Till she was quite worn away. + + At last she saw a fair tyl'd house, + And there she swore by the rood, + That she would to that fair tyl'd house, + There for to get her some food. 20 + + But when she came unto the gates, + Aloud, aloud she cry'd, + "An alms, an alms, my own sister! + I ask you for no pride." + + Her sister call'd up her merry men all, 25 + By one, by two, and by three, + And bid them hunt away that wild doe, + As far as e'er they could see. + + They hunted her o're hill and dale, + And they hunted her so sore, 30 + That they hunted her into the forrest, + Where her sorrows grew more and more. + + She laid a stone all at her head, + And another all at her feet, + And down she lay between these two, 35 + Till death had lull'd her asleep. + + When sweet Will came and stood at her head, + And likewise stood at her feet, + A thousand times he kiss'd her cold lips, + Her body being fast asleep. 40 + + Yea, seaven times he stood at her feet, + And seaven times at her head; + A thousand times he shook her hand, + Although her body was dead. + + "Ah wretched me!" he loudly cry'd, 45 + "What is it that I have done? + O wou'd to the powers above I'de dy'd, + When thus I left her alone! + + "Come, come, you gentle red-breast now, + And prepare for us a tomb, 50 + Whilst unto cruel Death I bow, + And sing like a swan my doom. + + "Why could I ever cruel be + Unto so fair a creature; + Alas! she dy'd for love of me, 55 + The loveliest she in nature! + + "For me she left her home so fair + To wander in this wild grove, + And there with sighs and pensive care + She ended her life for love. 60 + + "O constancy, in her thou'rt lost! + Now let women boast no more; + She's fled unto the Elizian coast, + And with her carry'd the store. + + "O break, my heart, with sorrow fill'd, 65 + Come, swell, you strong tides of grief! + You that my dear love have kill'd, + Come, yield in death to me relief. + + "Cruel her sister, was't for me + That to her she was unkind? 70 + Her husband I will never be, + But with this my love be joyn'd. + + "Grim Death shall tye the marriage bands, + Which jealousie shan't divide; + Together shall tye our cold hands, 75 + Whilst here we lye side by side. + + "Witness, ye groves, and chrystal streams, + How faithless I late have been; + But do repent with dying leaves + Of that my ungrateful sin; 80 + + "And wish a thousand times that I + Had been but to her more kind, + And not have let a virgin dye, + Whose equal there's none can find. + + "Now heaps of sorrow press my soul; 85 + Now, now 'tis she takes her way; + I come, my love, without controule, + Nor from thee will longer stay." + + With that he fetch'd a heavy groan, + Which rent his tender breast, 90 + And then by her he laid him down, + When as Death did give him rest. + + Whilst mournful birds, with leavy bows, + To them a kind burial gave, + And warbled out their love-sick vows, 95 + Whilst they both slept in their grave. + +5, so then. + + + + +THE BRAVE EARL BRAND AND THE KING OF ENGLAND'S DAUGHTER. See p. 114. + + +From Bell's _Ballads of the Peasantry of England_, p. 122. + +This ballad, which was printed by Bell from the recitation of an old +Northumberland fiddler, is defective in the tenth and the last +stanzas, and has suffered much from corruption in the course of +transmission. The name of the hero, however, is uncommonly well +preserved, and affords a link, rarely occurring in English, with the +corresponding Danish and Swedish ballads, a good number of which +have Hildebrand, though more have Ribold. It may be observed that in +_Hildebrand og Hilde_ (Grundtvig, No. 83), the knight has the rank +here ascribed to the lady. + + "Hand heede hertug Hyldebraand, + Kongens sönn aff Engeland." + +The "old Carl Hood" who gives the alarm in this ballad, is called in +most of the Danish ballads "a rich earl"; in one a treacherous man, +in another a young Carl, and in a third an old man; which together +furnish the elements of his character here of a treacherous old +Carl. + + O did you ever hear of the brave Earl Brand? + _Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!_ + He's courted the king's daughter o' fair England, + _I' the brave nights so early._ + + She was scarcely fifteen years that tide, + When sae boldly she came to his bed-side. + + "O Earl Brand, how fain wad I see 5 + A pack of hounds let loose on the lea." + + "O lady fair, I have no steed but one, + But thou shalt ride and I will run." + + "O Earl Brand, but my father has two, + And thou shalt have the best of tho." 10 + + Now they have ridden o'er moss and moor, + And they have met neither rich nor poor. + + Till at last they met with old Carl Hood, + He's aye for ill, and never for good. + + "Now, Earl Brand, an ye love me, 15 + Slay this old carl, and gar him dee." + + "O lady fair, but that would be sair, + To slay an auld carl that wears grey hair. + + "My own lady fair, I'll not do that, + I'll pay him his fee......." 20 + + "O where have ye ridden this lee lang day, + And where have ye stown this fair lady away?" + + "I have not ridden this lee lang day, + Nor yet have I stown this lady away. + + "For she is, I trow, my sick sister, 25 + Whom I have been bringing fra Winchester." + + "If she's been sick, and nigh to dead, + What makes her wear the ribbon so red? + + "If she's been sick, and like to die, + What makes her wear the gold sae high?" 30 + + When came the carl to the lady's yett, + He rudely, rudely rapped thereat. + + "Now where is the lady of this hall?" + "She's out with her maids a-playing at the ball." + + "Ha, ha, ha! ye are all mista'en; 35 + Ye may count your maidens owre again. + + "I met her far beyond the lea, + With the young Earl Brand, his leman to be." + + Her father of his best men armed fifteen, + And they're ridden after them bidene. 40 + + The lady looked owre her left shoulder then; + Says, "O Earl Brand, we are both of us ta'en." + + "If they come on me one by one, + You may stand by till the fights be done. + + "But if they come on me one and all, 45 + You may stand by and see me fall." + + They came upon him one by one, + Till fourteen battles he has won. + + And fourteen men he has them slain, + Each after each upon the plain. 50 + + But the fifteenth man behind stole round, + And dealt him a deep and deadly wound. + + Though he was wounded to the deid, + He set his lady on her steed. + + They rode till they came to the river Doune, 55 + And there they lighted to wash his wound. + + "O Earl Brand, I see your heart's blood!" + "It's nothing but the glent and my scarlet hood."[L58] + + They rode till they came to his mother's yett, + So faint and feebly he rapped thereat. 60 + + "O my son's slain, he is falling to swoon, + And it's all for the sake of an English loon!" + + "O say not so, my dearest mother, + But marry her to my youngest brother. + + "To a maiden true he'll give his hand, 65 + To the king's daughter o' fair England. + + "[To the king's daughter o' fair England,] + _Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!_ + To a prize that was won by a slain brother's brand," + _I' the brave nights so early._ + +58. Qy.? _of_ my scarlet hood. + + + + +LA VENDICATRICE. See p. 273. + + +From _Canti Popolari Inediti Umbri, Piceni, Piemontesi, Latini, +raccolti e illustrati da_ ORESTE MARCOALDI. Genova, 1855. p. +167.--From Alessandria. + + "Oh varda ben, Munfrenna,[L1] + Oh varda qul castè:[L2] + I'è trentatrè fantenni[L3] + Ch' a j' ho menaji me.[L4] + I m' han negà[L5] l' amure, + La testa a j' ho tajè."[L6] + + "Ch' u 'm digga lü, Sior[L7] Conte; + Ch' u 'm lassa la so' spà."[L8] + "Oh dimì ti, Monfrenna, + Cosa ch' a 't na voi fa'?"[L10] + "A voi tajè[L11] 'na frasca, + Per ombra al me' cavà."[L12] + Lesta con la spadenna[L13] + Al cor a j' ha passà. + + "Va là, va là, Sior Conte, + Va là 'nte quei boscon;[L16] + Le spenni[L17] e li serpenti + Saran toi[L18] compagnon." + +1 guarda ben, Monferina. + +2 quel castello. + +3 fanciulle. + +4 menate io. + +5 negato. + +6 tagliato. + +7 dica lei, signor. + +8 sua spada. + +10 vuoi fare. + +11 tagliare. + +12 cavallo. + +13 spadina. + +16 (_boscon_) cespugli. + +17 spine. + +18 tuoi. + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + +[pointing hand] Figures placed after words denote the pages in which +they occur. + + aboon, _above_, _upon_. + + abound, 335, _bound_. + + abune a' thing, _above all things_. + + a dee, 335, _to do_. + + ae, _one_. + + aft, _oft_. + + aith, _oath_. + + an, _if_. + + ance, _once_. + + anent, _opposite to_. + + are, _early_. + + assoile, _absolve_. + + aucht, _owns_; + wha is aucht that bairn? _who is it owns that child?_ + + ava, _of all_. + + a-warslin, _a wrestling_. + + ayont, _beyond_. + + + ba', _ball_. + + badena, _abode not_. + + bairn, _child_. + + baith, _both_. + + ban, 89, _bond_. + + beet, 340, _add fuel_. + + bierdly, _large and well-made_, _stately_. + + biggins, _buildings_. + + ben, _in_, _within_. + + bestan, _best_. + + best young man, _bridesman_. + + bidden, _bidding_. + + bidene, _in a company_, _forthwith_ (?) + + billie, _comrade_, _brother_. + + binna, _beest not_. + + birk, _birch_. + + birling, _pouring out_ [_drink_], _drinking_. + + blan, _ceased_, _stopped_. + + blate, _sheepish_, _ashamed_. + + blear, [noun,] _dimness_. + + blinkit, _blinked_, _winked_. + + blinne, _cease_. + + borrow, _ransom_. + + bouerie, _chamber_. + + boun, _ready_. + + bour, bower, _chamber_. + + bra', braw, _handsome_. + + bracken, _female fern_. + + brae, _hill-side_. + + braid, _broad_. + + brain, _mad_. + + brent, _burnt_; + 308, v. 31, _straight_? + + bridesteel, (Buchan,) 183, _bridal_? + + brigg, brigue, _bridge_. + + broo, _broth_. + + brook, _enjoy_. + + brunt, _burnt_. + + buird, _board_. + + burd, _lady_. + + burn, _brook_. + + busking, _dressing_, _making ready_. + + but, butt, _without_. + + but and, _and also_. + + byre, _cow-house_. + + + ca', _call_. + + cannel, 327. Qy. a corruption? + + canny, _knowing_, _expert_, _gentle_, _adroitly_, _carefully_. + + cast, _trick_, _turn_. + + channerin, _fretting_. + + chap, _tap_, _rap_; + chappit, 11, _tapped_, _rapped_; + at the chin, _should probably be_ at the pin, _or tongue of the + latch_. + + cheir, _cheer_. + + claise, _clothes_. + + clap, _fondle_; + clappit, _patted_, _fondled_. + + cleading, _clothing_. + + clecked, _hatched_. + + cleed, _clothe_. + + cleiding, _clothing_. + + clerks, _scholars_. + + cliding, _clothing_. + + close, _lane_. + + cod, _pillow_. + + coil, 324, _cock of hay_. + + coost, _cast_. + + could, _used with the infinitive as an auxiliary, to form a past + tense_. + + crap, _crop_, _top_. + + croodlin doo, _cooing dove_. + + crowse, _brisk_. + + cuik, _cook_. + + curches, _kerchiefs_. R. Jamieson, "_linen caps tying under the + chin._" + + cuttit, _cut_. + + + dabs, _pricks_. + + dang, 301, _overcome_; + 361, _pushed_. + + dapperby, 189, _dapper_? + + daut, _fondle_, _caress_. + + daw, _dawn_. + + dead, _death_. + + dear-boucht, _dear-bought_. + + deas, _sometimes a pew in a church_. + + dee, _die_. + + dee, do, _avail_. + + deid, _death_. + + deight, dight, _decked_. + + den, _valley_. + + depart, 124, _part_. + + dight, 253, _skilfully_, _readily_? + + dighted, _dressed_, _wiped_. + + dine, _dinner_. + + ding, _strike_. + + dinna, _do not_. + + disna, _does not_. + + dool, _sorrow_. + + dout, _fear_. + + dowie, _mournful_, _sad_, _gloomy_. + + downa, _cannot_. + + dows, _doves_. + + dreaded, _doubted_. + + dree, _suffer_. + + drew up with, 94, _formed relations of love with_. + + drie, _suffer_. + + drumly, _troubled_. + + dule, _grief_, _sorrow_. + + dune, _done_. + + dwines, _dwindles_. + + + e'e, _eye_. + + een, _eye_, _eyes_. + + eneuch, _enough_. + + ezer, _azure_. + + + fadge, _clumsy woman_. + + faem, _foam_. + + fare, _go_. + + farrow-cow, _a barren cow_. + + fee, _property_, _wages_. + + fell, _hill_. + + fell, _strange_. + + ferra cow, _farrow cow_, _a cow not with calf_. + + ffree, _noble_. + + firstan, firstand, _first_. + + fit, _foot_. + + fitches, 329, _flitches_? + + flang'd, _flung_. + + fleed, _flood_. + + foremost man, _bridesman_. + + forlorn, _lost_. + + fou, fow, _full_. + + frush, _brittle_. + + fur, furrow, _a furrows length_, _furlong_. + + + gaed, _went_. + + gair, 354, _gore_, _strip_. See gare. + + gang, _go_; + gangs, _goes_. + + gar, _make_. + + gare, 55, _gore_; + apparently, here, _skirt_. So, hung low down by his gair, 296, _by + the edge of his frock_. The word seems also to be used vaguely + in romances for _clothing_. + + garl, _gravel_. + + gate, _way_. + + gear, _goods_, _clothes_. + + gin, _trick_, _wile_. + + gleed, _a burning coal_; + 97, _blaze_. + + glent, _gleam_, _glimmer_. + + gone, _go_. + + gowd, _gold_; + gowden, _golden_. + + gowk, _fool_. + + gravat, _cravat_? + + greaf, _grave_. + + greet, _cry_, _weep_. + + gris, _a costly fur_. + + grit, _big_. + + groom, _man_. + + gross, _heavy_. + + gryte, _great_, _big_. + + Gude, _God_. + + + ha', _hall_. + + had her, _betook her_. + + hallow-days, _holidays_. + + haly, _holy_. + + happit, _covered_. + + hass, _neck_. + + haud, _hold_; + haud unthought lang, _keep from ennui_. + + hause, _neck_. + + head, _behead_. + + healy, _slowly_, _softly_. + + heght, _promised_. + + her lane, _herself alone_. + + herried, _robbed_. + + hich, _high_. + + hinny, _honey_. + + hip, _the berry which contains the stones or seeds of the dog-rose_. + + hooly, _slowly_, _gently_. + + how, _ho!_ + + hows, _hollows_, _dells_. + + howket, _dug_. + + huggell, _huddle_, _cuddle_. + + huly, _slowly_. + + + intill, _into_, _in_. + + into, _on_. + + iwis, _certainly_. + + + jaw, 233, _wave_. + + jawing, _dashing_. + + jimp, _slender_. + + jo, _sweetheart_. + + jollie, _handsome_. + + jow, _stroke in tolling_. + + + kell, _caul_, _a species of cap, or net-work, worn by women as a + head-dress_. + + kembe, _comb_; + kembing, _combing_. + + kenna, _know not_; + kentna, _knew not_. + + kens, _knows_. + + kerches, _kerchiefs_. + + kilted, _tucked up_. + + kin, _kind_; + a' kin, _all kind_. + + kist, _chest_. + + kitchey, _kitchen_. + + know, _knoll_. + + kye, _cows_. + + kythe, _become_, _manifest_. + + + laigh, _low_. + + lain, _alone_; + ye're your lain, _you are alone_; + hir lain, _her alone_. + + lair, _learning_. + + lane, _alone_; + the same in combination with the pronouns _my_, _his_, _her_, + _its_, _&c._ + + lap, _leapt_. + + latten, _let_. + + lauch, _laugh_. + + laumer, 327, _amber_. + + lave, _rest_. + + lealest, _truest_, _chastest_. + + lear, _lore_, _lesson_. + + lease, _leash_. + + lee, _lonesome_. + + lee-lang, _livelong_. + + lei, 132, _lonesome_. + + len, _lie_. + + lent, _leaned_. + + let, _stop_, _delay_. + + leuch, leugh, _laughed_. + + lichtly, _lightly_. + + lig, _lie_. + + lighter, _delivered_. + + limmers, _strumpets_. + + linn, _the pool under a cataract_, _cataract_. + + lith, _joint_. + + lither, _naughty_, _wicked_. + + looten, _let_. + + loup, _leap_. + + lourd, _liefer_, _rather_. + + louted, _bent_. + + louze, _loosen_. + + lykewake, _watching of a dead body_. + + + mae, _more_. + + maene, moan, _lamentation_. + + maist, 58, maistly, _almost_. + + make, _mate_. + + mane, _moan_. + + maries, _maids_. + + marrow, _mate_. + + mat, _may_. + + maun, _must_. + + maunna, _may not_. + + may, _maid_. + + meen, _moan_, _lament_. + + message, _messenger_. + + micht, _might_. + + mind, _remember_. + + mirk, _murky_. + + mith, _might_. + + Moll Syms, 359, _a celebrated dance tune of the 16th century_. + + mools, _the earth of the grave_, _the dust of the dead_. + + mot, _may_. + + my lane, _alone by myself_. + + + niest, _next_. + + nourice, _nurse_. + + + oer, ower, _over_, _too_. + + ohon, _alas_. + + owsen, _oxen_. + + Owsenford, _Oxford_. + + + pa', pall, _rich cloth_. + + Parish, _Paris_. + + part, 151, _separate from_. + + pat, _pot_. + + pearlin' gear, _pearl ornaments_. + + pin, _door-latch_. + + plat, _plaited_. + + plea, _quarrel_. + + pot, _a pool_, _or deep place, in a river_. + + prin, _pin_. + + propine, _gift_. + + putten down, _hung_. + + + queet, quit, _ancle_. + + quhair, quhat, quhy, &c., _where_, _what_, _why_, _&c._ + + + rair'd, _roared_. + + rave, _tore off_. + + reavel'd, _tangled_. + + rede, _advice_, _advise_; + 263, _story_. + + reest, _roost_. + + renown, [Buchan,] 169, _haughtiness_? + + rigland shire, 331? + + rin, _run_. + + ritted, _routed_, _struck_. + + riv't, _tear it_. + + row, _roll_. + + row'd, _rolled_. + + + sabelline, _sable_. + + sanna, _shall not_. + + sarbit, _an exclamation of sorrow_. + + sark, _shirt_. + + saugh, _willow_. + + scheet, _school_. + + schill, _shrill_. + + scug, _expiate_. + + see, (save and,) _protect_. + + seen, sen, _then_, _since_. + + send, 334, _the messengers sent for the bride at a wedding_. + + sets, _suits_. + + shed by, 77, _parted_, _put back_. + + sheen, _shine_. + + sheen, _shoes_. + + sheet, _shoot_. + + sheuch, _furrow_, _ditch_. + + shimmerd, _shone_. + + shot-window, _a projected window_. + + sic, _such_. + + sich, _sigh_. + + sindle, _seldom_. + + sinsyne, _since_. + + skinkled, _sparkled_. + + slack, _a gap or pass between two hills_. + + slait, _passed across_, _whetted_. + + slap, _a narrow pass between two hills_. + + smore, _smother_. + + snood, _a fillet or ribbon for the hair_. + + socht, _sought_. + + sorray, _sorrow_. + + soum, sowm, _swim_. + + spakes, _spokes_, _bars_. + + speer, speir, _ask_. + + spreckl'd, _speckled_. + + stap, _stuff_. + + stean, _stone_. + + steek'd, _fastened_. + + stey, _steep_. + + stint, _stop_. + + stock, _the forepart of a bed_. + + stout, 300, _haughty_. + + strae, stray, _straw_. + + straiked, streaked, _stroked_, _drew_. + + streek, _stretch_; + streekit, _stretched_; + streikit, _laid out_. + + striped, _thrust_. + + suld, _should_. + + syke, _marshy bottom_. + + syne, _then_, _afterwards_. + + + tane, _one_, [_after the._] + + tasse, _cup_. + + tate, _lock_ (_of hair_). + + tee, _too_. + + teem, _empty_. + + teen, _sorrow_, _suffering_. + + tent, _heed_. + + thae, _these_. + + the, _thrive_. + + thegither, _together_. + + thir, tho, _these_, _those_. + + thorn'd, 335, _eaten_? + + thought lang, _felt ennui_. + + thouth, _thought_, _seemed_. + + thraw, 302, _writhe_, _twist_; + thrawen, _crooked_. + + thresel-cock, _throstle_, _thrush_. + + threw, 130, _throve_. + + thrild upon a pinn. See _tirled_ below. + + tift, _puff_ (_of wind_). + + till, _to_, _on_. + + tirled at the pin, _trilled or rattled, at the door-latch, to obtain + entrance_. + + tither, _other_. + + tocher, _dowry_. + + toomly, _empty_. + + tow, _rope_. + + triest, tryst, _make an assignation_. + + true, _trow_. + + twain, _part_. + + twal, _twelve_. + + twin, _part_; + twinn'd, _deprived_, _parted_. + + + unco, _unknown_, _strange_. + + + virr, _strength_. + + vow, _interjection of surprise_. + + + wad, _would_. + + wadded, _wagered_, _staked_. + + wadding, _wedding_. + + wae, waeful', _sad_, _sorrowful_. + + waked, _watched_. + + walde, _would_. + + wale, _choice_. + + wambe, wame, _womb_. + + wan, _reached_. + + wand, wandie, _bough_, _wand_, _stick_. + + wan na in, _got not in_. + + wap, _throw_. + + wappit, _beat_, _fluttered_. + + warde, 35, _advise_, _forewarn_. + + wark, _work_. + + warlock, _wizzard_. + + warstan, _worst_. + + warstled, _wrestled_. + + wat, _know_. + + water-kelpy, _a malicious spirit thought to haunt fords and ferries, + especially in storms, and to swell the waters beyond their + ordinary limit, for the destruction of luckless travellers_. + + wavers, 40, _wanders_. + + wa'-wight, 383, _waled_, _picked_, _strong-men or warriors_. See + vol. vi. 220, v. 15. + + wean, _child_. + + wee, _little_. + + weed, _dress_. + + weir-horse, _war-horse_. + + werne, _were_. + + wha is aught, _who is it owns_. + + whang, _thong_. + + whaten, _what_. + + wicht, _strong_, _agile_. + + widdershins, _the contrary way_, _round about_. + + wide, _wade_. + + wight, _strong_, _agile_. + + win, _arrive_, _reach_, _come_, _get_. + + winna, _will not_. + + winsome, _charming_, _attractive_. + + woe, _sad_. + + won up, _got up_. + + wood, _mad_; + wood-wroth, _mad with anger_. + + worth, _be_; + wae worth you, _sorrow come upon you_. + + wow, _alas_. + + wraith, _wroth_. + + wrongous, _wrong_. + + wull, _will_. + + wyte, _punish_, _blame_. + + + yae, _every_. + + yare, _ready_. + + yeats, yetts, _gates_. + + yestreen, _yesterday_. + + yird-fast, _fixed in the earth_. + + yode, _went_. + + yont, _beyond_, _further off_. + + Yule, _Christmas_. + + + ze, zet, zour, &c., _ye_, _yet_, _your_. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes + +Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers +and punctuation have been corrected without comment. Where changes +have been made to the wording these are listed as follows: + +Page 10, line 33: added missing opening quotation mark ("But look that +ye tell na Gib your man,...) + +Page 38, line note 157: reference originally read "177". + +Page 55, line 47, 48: added missing quotation marks (Lye yont, lye yont, +Willie," she says, / "For your sweat I downa bide O.") + +Page 97, line 97: added final comma ("Now haud your tongue, my lord," she +said, ...) + +Page 118, line 58, 59: removed unnecessary quotation mark ("Get up, and +let me in!-- / Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, ...) + +Page 119, line 71: deleted duplicate "the" (Out o' the lady's grave +grew a bonny red rose). + +Page 184, line 50: deleted erroneous closing quotation mark (Says, +"What means a' this mourning?) + +Page 189, line 41 and page 396: "dapperpy" appears in the text but is +"dapperby" in the Glossary (O he has pou'd aff his dapperby coat, ...) + +Page 227, line 41: added open quotation mark ("And quhat wul ze leive to +zour bairns and zour wife,) + +Page 263 line 16: added missing period (A playing at the ba'."--) + +Page 270, line 24: changed "Doan" to "Doun" (Doun by the greenwud +sae bonnie) + +Page 300: added missing closing quotation mark (... taken place in +Bothwell church." SCOTT.) + +Page 338, line 11: changed "Majorie" to "Marjorie" (That Lady +Marjorie she gaes wi' child, ...) + +Page 347: heading "Book IV" removed. Note that it does not appear in the +Table of Contents and there are several references to ballads and page +numbers after this point as part of the Appendix. Note also that Volume +3 starts with "Book III (continued)". + +Page 352, line 42: added closing quotation mark ("Where leav'st thou thy +youthful daughter, / Merry son of mine?") + +Page 401, changed "widdershius" to "widdershins" (widdershins, _the +contrary way_, _round about_.) + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads, Volume +II (of 8), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOL 2 OF 8 *** + +***** This file should be named 37738-8.txt or 37738-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/7/3/37738/ + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Marilynda +Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: English and Scottish Ballads, Volume II (of 8) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis James Child + +Release Date: October 12, 2011 [EBook #37738] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOL 2 OF 8 *** + + + + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Marilynda +Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><!-- Page i --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> +<div class="trans-note"> +<h4>Transcriber's Notes</h4> + +<p>Linenotes have been grouped at the end of each ballad. Linenote +anchors have been added to the text which provide a link to the appropriate note.</p> + +<p>Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers, +punctuation or inconsistent formatting have been corrected without +comment. Where changes have been made to the wording these are +listed at the<a href="#Transcribers_Notes"> end of the book</a>.</p> +</div> +<h1> ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH + BALLADS.</h1> + +<h3> EDITED BY<br /> + + FRANCIS JAMES CHILD.</h3> + +<h3> <span class="smcap">VOLUME II.</span></h3> + +<h4> BOSTON:<br /> + LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.<br /> + M.DCCC.LX.</h4> +<p><!-- Page ii --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, +by <span class="smcap">Little, Brown and Company</span>, in the Clerk's Office of +the District Court of Massachusetts.</p></div> + +<h5> RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:<br /> + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY<br /> + H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.</h5> +<p><!-- Page iii --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> + + + +<h3>CONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND.</h3> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="3" class="TOC_heading">BOOK II.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3" align="right">Page</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 1 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#GLASGERION">Glasgerion</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 1 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#GLENKINDIE">Glenkindie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 2 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_OLD_BALLAD_OF_LITTLE_MUSGRAVE">Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 2 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_RANDAL_A">Lord Randal (A)</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 3 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#GIL_MORRICE">Gil Morrice</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 3 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHILD_NORYCE">Child Noryce</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 4.</td><td align="left"><a href="#CLERK_SAUNDERS">Clerk Saunders</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 5 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SWEET_WILLIE_AND_LADY_MARGERIE">Sweet Willie and Lady Margerie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 5 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#WILLIE_AND_LADY_MAISRY">Willie and Lady Maisry</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 6.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CLERKS_TWA_SONS_O_OWSENFORD">The Clerk's Twa Sons o' Owsenford</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 7.</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHILDE_VYET">Childe Vyet</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 8.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LADY_MAISRY">Lady Maisry</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 9 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAIR_JANET">Fair Janet</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 9 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SWEET_WILLIE">Sweet Willie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">10 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAIR_ANNIE_OF_LOCHROYAN">Fair Annie of Lochroyan</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">10 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_LASS_OF_LOCHROYAN">The Lass of Lochroyan</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">11.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_DOUGLAS_TRAGEDY">The Douglas Tragedy</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_THOMAS_AND_FAIR_ELLINOR">Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_THOMAS_AND_FAIR_ANNET">Lord Thomas and Fair Annet</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12 c.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SWEET_WILLIE_AND_FAIR_ANNIE">Sweet Willie and Fair Annie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12 d.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAIR_MARGARET_AND_SWEET_WILLIAM">Fair Margaret and Sweet William</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">13 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SWEET_WILLIAMS_GHOST">Sweet William's Ghost</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">13 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#WILLIAM_AND_MARJORIE">William and Marjorie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">13 c.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SWEET_WILLIAM_AND_MAY_MARGARET">Sweet William and May Margaret</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">14 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BONNY_BARBARA_ALLAN">Bonny Barbara Allan</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">14 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BARBARA_ALLENS_CRUELTY">Barbara Allen's Cruelty</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_158">158</a><!-- Page iv --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">15.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_LOVEL">Lord Lovel</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">16 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_SALTON_AND_AUCHANACHIE1">Lord Salton and Auchanachie, [Maidment]</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">16 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_SALTON_AND_AUCHANACHIE2">Lord Salton and Auchanachie, [Buchan]</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">17 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#WILLIE_AND_MAY_MARGARET">Willie and May Margaret</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">17 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_DROWNED_LOVERS">The Drowned Lovers</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">18.</td><td align="left"><a href="#WILLIES_DROWNED_IN_GAMERY">Willie's Drowned in Gamery</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">19.</td><td align="left"><a href="#ANNAN_WATER">Annan Water</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">20 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#ANDREW_LAMMIE">Andrew Lammie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">20 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_TRUMPETER_OF_FYVIE">The Trumpeter of Fyvie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">21.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FAIR_HELEN_OF_KIRCONNELL">Fair Helen of Kirconnel</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">22.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_LOWLANDS_OF_HOLLAND">The Lowlands of Holland</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="3" class="TOC_heading">BOOK III.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 1 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_TWA_BROTHERS">The Twa Brothers</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 1 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#EDWARD_EDWARD">Edward, Edward</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 1 c.</td><td align="left"><a href="#SON_DAVIE_SON_DAVIE">Son Davie, Son Davie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 2 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_SISTER">The Cruel Sister</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 2 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_TWA_SISTERS">The Twa Sisters</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 3 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_DONALD">Lord Donald</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 3 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LORD_RANDAL_B">Lord Randal (B)</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 4 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_BROTHER1">The Cruel Brother, [Jamieson]</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 4 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_BROTHER2">The Cruel Brother, [Herd]</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 5 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#LADY_ANNE">Lady Anne</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 5 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#FINE_FLOWERS_IN_THE_VALLEY">Fine Flowers in the Valley</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 5 c.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_MOTHER1">The Cruel Mother, [Motherwell]</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 5 d.</td><td align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_MOTHER2">The Cruel Mother, [Kinloch]</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 6.</td><td align="left"><a href="#MAY_COLVIN_OR_FALSE_SIR_JOHN">May Colvin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 7 a.</td><td align="left"><a href="#BABYLON">Babylon</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> 7 b.</td><td align="left"><a href="#DUKE_OF_PERTHS_THREE_DAUGHTERS">Duke of Perth's Three Daughters</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 8.</td><td align="left"><a href="#JELLON_GRAME">Jellon Grame</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1"> 9.</td><td align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_JOHNSTONE">Young Johnstone</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" class="rpad1">10.</td><td align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_BENJIE">Young Benjie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="3" class="TOC_heading">APPENDIX.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LORD_BARNABY">Lord Barnaby</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#CHILDE_MAURICE_See_p_30">Child Maurice</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_313">313</a><!-- Page v --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#CLERK_SAUNDERS_See_p_45">Clerk Saunders</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LORD_WAYATES_AND_AULD_INGRAM">Lord Wa'yates and Auld Ingram</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_326">326</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#SWEET_WILLIE_AND_FAIR_MAISRY_See_p_79">Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LADY_MARJORIE_See_p_92">Lady Marjorie</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_338">338</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LEESOME_BRAND">Leesome Brand</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_342">342</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_YOUTH_OF_ROSENGORD">The Youth of Rosengord</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_347">347</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_BLOOD-STAINED_SON_See_p_219">The Blood-Stained Son</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_TWA_BROTHERS_See_p_220">The Twa Brothers</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_353">353</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_MILLER_AND_THE_KINGS_DAUGHTER">The Miller and the King's Daughter</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_BONNY_BOWS_O_LONDON_See_p_231">The Bonny Bows o' London</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_360">360</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_CROODLIN_DOO">The Croodlin Doo</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_363">363</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_SNAKE-COOK">The Snake-Cook</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_364">364</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_CHILDS_LAST_WILL">The Child's Last Will</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_THREE_KNIGHTS_See_p_251">The Three Knights</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_368">368</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_CRUEL_MOTHER_See_p_262">The Cruel Mother</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_372">372</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_MINISTERS_DOCHTER_O_NEWARKE">The Minister's Dochter o' Newarke</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_376">376</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#BONDSEY_AND_MAISRY_See_p_298">Bondsey and Maisry</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_379">379</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LADY_DIAMOND">Ladye Diamond</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_382">382</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_WEST_COUNTRY_DAMOSELS">The West-Country Damosel's Complaint</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_384">384</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#THE_BRAVE_EARL_BRAND_AND_THE_KING">The Brave Earl Brand and the King of England's Daughter</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_388">388</a></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><a href="#LA_VENDICATRICE_See_p_273">La Vendicatrice—supplement to May Colvin</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_392">392</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#GLOSSARY">Glossary</a></span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 1 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II.</h2> + + + +<hr /> +<p><!-- Page 3 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="GLASGERION" id="GLASGERION"></a>GLASGERION.</h3> + + +<p>The two following ballads have the same subject, +and perhaps had a common original. The "Briton +<span class="smcap">Glaskyrion</span>" is honourably mentioned as a harper +by Chaucer, in company with Chiron, Orion, and Orpheus, +(<i>House of Fame</i>, B. iii. v. 118,) and with the +last he is also associated, as Mr. Finlay has pointed out, +by Bishop Douglas, in the <i>Palice of Honour</i>. "The +Scottish writers," says Jamieson, "adapting the name +to their own meridian, call him <span class="smcap">Glenkindy</span>, <span class="smcap">Glenskeenie</span>, +&c."</p> + +<p><i>Glasgerion</i> is reprinted from Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 83.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glasgerion was a kings owne sonne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a harper he was goode;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He harped in the kings chambere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where cuppe and caudle stoode,</span><!-- Page 4 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And soe did hee in the queens chambere,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ladies waxed wood,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then bespake the kinges daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And these wordes thus shee sayd:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Strike on, strike on, Glasgerion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of thy striking doe not blinne;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Theres never a stroke comes oer thy harpe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But it glads my hart withinne."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Faire might <a name="LNanchor_1a_13" id="LNanchor_1a_13"></a><a href="#Linenote_1a_13" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">him fall,</a> ladye," quoth hee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Who taught you nowe to speake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yeere,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My harte I neere durst breake."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But come to my bower, my Glasgerion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When all men are att rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I am a ladie true of my promise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou shalt bee a welcome guest."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Home then came Glasgerion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A glad man, lord! was hee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come hither unto mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For the kinges daughter of Normandye<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hath granted mee my boone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And att her chambere must I bee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beffore the cocke have crowen."<!-- Page 5 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O master, master," then quoth hee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Lay your head downe on this stone;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I will waken you, master deere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afore it be time to gone."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But up then rose that lither ladd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hose and shoone did on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A coller he cast upon his necke,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hee seemed a gentleman.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to the ladyes chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He thrild upon a pinn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lady was true of her promise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rose and lett him inn.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He did not take the lady gaye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To boulster nor to bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">[Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A single word he sed.]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He did not kisse that ladyes mouthe,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor when he came, nor yode:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sore that ladye did mistrust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was of some churls bloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But home then came that lither ladd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did off his hose and shoone;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cast the coller from off his necke:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was but a churlès sonne.<!-- Page 6 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awake, awake, my deere master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cock hath well-nigh crowen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awake, awake, my master deere,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I hold it time to be gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For I have saddled your horsse, master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well bridled I have your steede,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have served you a good breakfast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thereof ye have need."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then rose good Glasgerion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did on hose and shoone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cast a coller about his necke:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he was a kinge his sonne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to the ladyes chambere,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He thrilled upon the pinne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladye was more than true of promise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rose and let him inn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whether have you left with me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your bracelet or your glove?<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or are you returned back againe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To know more of my love?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glasgerion swore a full great othe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By oake, and ashe, and thorne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ladye, I was never in your chambere,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sith the time that I was borne."<!-- Page 7 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O then it was your <a name="LNanchor_1a_77" id="LNanchor_1a_77"></a><a href="#Linenote_1a_77" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">lither</a> foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hath beguiled mee:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shee pulled forth a little pen-knìffe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hanged by her knee.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "there shall never noe churlès blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within my bodye spring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No churlès blood shall e'er defile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The daughter of a kinge."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Home then went Glasgerion,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And woe, good lord! was hee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "come thou hither, Jacke my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come hither unto mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I had killed a man to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Jack, I would tell it thee:<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if I have not killed a man to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Jacke, thou hast killed three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he puld out his bright browne sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dryed it on his sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he smote off that lither ladds head,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who did his ladye grieve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sett the swords poynt till his brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The pummil untill a stone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throw the falsenesse of that lither ladd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These three lives werne all gone.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_1a_13" id="Linenote_1a_13"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1a_13" title="link to line number">13</a>, him fall.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_1a_77" id="Linenote_1a_77"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1a_77" title="link to line number">77</a>, MS. litle.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 8 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="GLENKINDIE" id="GLENKINDIE"></a>GLENKINDIE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads and Songs</i>, i. 91. The copy +in the <i>Thistle of Scotland</i>, p. 31, is the same.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glenkindie was ance a harper gude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harped to the king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Glenkindie was ance the best harper<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever harp'd on a string.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_1b_5" id="LNanchor_1b_5"></a><a href="#Linenote_1b_5" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water,</a><span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or water out o' a stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or milk out o' a maiden's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bairn had never nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen his harp intil his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harpit and he sang;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ay as he harpit to the king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To haud him unthought lang.<!-- Page 9 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll gie you a robe, Glenkindie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A robe o' the royal pa',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ye will harp i' the winter's night<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afore my nobles a'."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_1b_17" id="LNanchor_1b_17"></a><a href="#Linenote_1b_17" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And the king but and his nobles a'</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat birling at the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he wad hae but his ae dochter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait on them at dine.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen his harp intill his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's harpit them a' asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except it was the young countess,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That love did waukin keep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_1b_25" id="LNanchor_1b_25"></a><a href="#Linenote_1b_25" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And first he has harpit a grave tune,</a><span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne he has harpit a gay;<!-- Page 10 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mony a sich atween hands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat the lady gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "Whan day is dawen, and cocks hae crawen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wappit their wings sae wide,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's ye may come to my bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And streek you by my side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But look that ye tell na Gib your man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For naething that ye dee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, an ye tell him, Gib your man,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'll beguile baith you and me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen his harp intill his hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harpit and he sang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is hame to Gib his man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could gang.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mith I tell you, Gib, my man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin I a man had slain?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O that ye micht, my gude master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Altho' ye had slain ten."<!-- Page 11 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then tak ye tent now, Gib, my man,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bidden for to dee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, but an ye wauken me in time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye sall be hangit hie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whan day has dawen, and cocks hae crawen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wappit their wings sae wide,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm bidden gang till yon lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And streek me by her side."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame to your bed, my good master;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye've waukit, I fear, o'er lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'll wauken you in as good time,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ony cock i' the land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen his harp intill his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harpit and he sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he harpit his master asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Syne fast awa did gang.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he is till that lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could rin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he cam till that lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He chappit <a name="LNanchor_1b_64" id="LNanchor_1b_64"></a><a href="#Linenote_1b_64" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">at the chin</a>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha is this," says that lady,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That opens nae and comes in?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O open and lat me in!"<!-- Page 12 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She kent he was nae gentle knicht<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she had latten in;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For neither whan he gaed nor cam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kist he her cheek or chin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He neither kist her whan he cam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor clappit her when he gaed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in and at her bower window,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The moon shone like the gleed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O, ragged is your hose, Glenkindie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And riven is your sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reavel'd is your yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I saw late yestreen."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The stockings they are Gib my man's,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They came first to my hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this is Gib my man's shoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At my bed feet they stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've reavell'd a' my yellow hair<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Coming against the wind."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen the harp intill his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harpit and he sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he cam to his master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could gang.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Won up, won up, my good master;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear ye sleep o'er lang;<!-- Page 13 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nae a cock in a' the land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But has wappit his wings and crawn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glenkindie's tane his harp in hand,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harpit and he sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has reach'd the lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afore that e'er he blan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he cam to the lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He chappit at the chin;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O, wha is that at my bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That opens na and comes in?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in I canna win."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Forbid it, forbid it," says that lady,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That ever sic shame betide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I should first be a wild loon's lass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And than a young knight's bride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was nae pity for that lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she lay cald and dead;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' was for him, Glenkindie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bower he must go mad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The water out o' a stane;<!-- Page 14 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The milk out o' a maiden's breast,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bairn had never nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen his harp intill his hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sweetly as it rang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wae and weary was to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_1b_120" id="LNanchor_1b_120"></a><a href="#Linenote_1b_120" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Glenkindie's dowie sang.</a><span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But cald and dead was that lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor heeds for a' his maen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An he wad harpit till domisday,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll never speak again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen his harp intill his hand;<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He harpit and he sang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is hame to Gib his man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could gang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I pay you your fee;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weel payit sall ye be!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has taen him, Gib, his man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he has hang'd him hie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's hangit him o'er his ain yate,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As high as high could be.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_1b_5" id="Linenote_1b_5"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1b_5" title="link to line number">5-8</a>. These feats are all but equalled by the musician in +the Swedish and Danish <i>Harpans Kraft</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He harped the bark from every tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he harped the young from folk and from fee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He harped the hind from the wild-wood home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He harped the bairn from its mother's womb."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;"><span class="smcap">Arwidsson</span>, No. 149.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Villemand takes his harp in his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He goes down by the water to stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He struck the harp with his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fish leapt out upon the strand."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;"><span class="smcap">Grundtvig</span>, No. 40.</span> +</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_1b_17" id="Linenote_1b_17"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1b_17" title="link to line number">17-20</a>. This stanza is found in the opening of <i>Brown Robin</i>, +which commences thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The king but and his nobles a'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat birling at the wine, [<i>bis</i>]<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would hae nane but his ae daughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait on them at dine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She served them but, she served them ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Intill a gown o' green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her e'e was ay on Brown Robin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That stood low under the rain," &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_1b_25" id="Linenote_1b_25"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1b_25" title="link to line number">25-28</a>. The following stanza occurs in one of the editor's +copies of <i>The Gay Gosshawk</i>:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O first he sang a merry song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then he sang a grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then he pecked his feathers gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To her the letter gave."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">J.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_1b_64" id="Linenote_1b_64"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1b_64" title="link to line number">64</a>, at the chin. Sic.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_1b_120" id="Linenote_1b_120"></a><a href="#LNanchor_1b_120" title="link to line number">120</a>. This stanza has been altered, to introduce a little variety, +and prevent the monotonous tiresomeness of repetition. +J. +</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 15 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_OLD_BALLAD_OF_LITTLE_MUSGRAVE" id="THE_OLD_BALLAD_OF_LITTLE_MUSGRAVE"></a>THE OLD BALLAD OF LITTLE MUSGRAVE +AND THE LADY BARNARD.</h3> + + +<p>The popularity of this ancient ballad is evinced by +its being frequently quoted in old plays. In Beaumont +and Fletcher's <i>Knight of the Burning Pestle</i>, +(produced in 1611,) the fourteenth stanza is cited, thus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And some they whistled and some they sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Hey, down, down!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some did loudly say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever as the lord Barnet's horn blew,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Away, Musgrave, away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;"><i>Act V. Scene 3.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p>The oldest known copy of this piece is found in <i>Wit +Restor'd</i>, (1658,) p. 174, and from the reprint of that +publication we have taken it, (p. 293.) Dryden seems +to have adopted it from the same source into his <i>Miscellanies</i>, +and Ritson has inserted Dryden's version in <i>Ancient +Songs and Ballads</i>, ii. 116. Percy's copy (<i>Reliques</i>, +iii. 106,) was inferior to the one here used, and was +besides somewhat altered by the editor.</p> + +<p>A Scottish version, furnished by Jamieson, is given +in the Appendix to this volume, and another, extend<!-- Page 16 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>ing +to forty-eight stanzas, in <i>Scottish Traditional Versions +of Ancient Ballads</i>, Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 21.</p> + +<p>Similar incidents, with a verbal coincidence in one +stanza, occur in the ballad immediately succeeding the +present.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As it fell one holy-day, <i>hay downe</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As manybe in the yeare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When young men and maids together did goe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their mattins and masse to heare,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little Musgrave came to the church dore,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The preist was at private masse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he had more minde of the faire women,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then he had of our <a name="LNanchor_2a_8" id="LNanchor_2a_8"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_8" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">ladys</a> grace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The one of them was clad in green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another was clad in <a name="LNanchor_2a_10" id="LNanchor_2a_10"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_10" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">pall;</a><span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then came in my lord <a name="LNanchor_2a_11" id="LNanchor_2a_11"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_11" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Barnards</a> wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest amonst them all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She cast an eye on little Musgrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As bright as the summer sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then bethought this little Musgrave,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"This ladys heart have I woonn."<!-- Page 17 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quoth she, "I have loved thee, little Musgrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full long and many a day:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"So have I loved you, fair lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet never word durst I say."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full daintyly it is <a name="LNanchor_2a_22" id="LNanchor_2a_22"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_22" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">deight;</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou wilt <a name="LNanchor_2a_23" id="LNanchor_2a_23"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_23" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">wend</a> thither, thou little Musgrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou's lig in mine armes all night."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quoth he, "I thank yee, faire lady,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This kindnes thou showest to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whether it be to my weal or woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night I will lig with thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_2a_29" id="LNanchor_2a_29"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_29" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">All that heard</a> a little tinny page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By his ladyes coach as he ran:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">[Quoth he,] "allthough I am my ladyes foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet I am lord Barnards man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My lord Barnard shall knowe of this,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whether I <a name="LNanchor_2a_34" id="LNanchor_2a_34"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_34" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">sink</a> or swimm:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever where the bridges were broake,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He laid him downe to swimme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Asleepe, <a name="LNanchor_2a_37" id="LNanchor_2a_37"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_37" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">awake!</a> thou lord Barnard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thou art a man of life;<!-- Page 18 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Abed with thy own wedded wife."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If this be true, thou little tinny page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This thing thou tellest to mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I freely will give to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This thing thou tellest to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There hanged shalt thou be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He called up his merry men all:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Come saddle me my steed;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This night must I to Buckellsfordbery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I never had greater need."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And some of them whistl'd, and some of them sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some these words did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_2a_55" id="LNanchor_2a_55"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_55" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Ever</a> when my lord Barnards horn blew,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Away, Musgrave, away!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Methinks I hear the thresel-cock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Methinks I hear the jaye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks I hear my Lord Barnard,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I would I were away."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<!-- Page 19 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And huggell me from the cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tis nothing but a shephards boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A driving his sheep to the fold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is not thy hawke upon a perch?<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy steed eats oats and hay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou [a] fair lady in thine armes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wouldst thou bee away?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that my lord Barnard came to the dore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lit a stone upon;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He plucked out three silver keys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he open'd the dores each one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lifted up the coverlett,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He lifted up the sheet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"How now, how now, thou little Musgrave,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doest thou find my lady sweet?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I find her sweet," quoth little Musgrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The more 'tis to my paine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would gladly give three hundred pounds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I were on yonder plaine."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Arise, arise, thou littell Musgrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put thy clothés on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shal ne'er be said in my country,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have killed a naked man.<!-- Page 20 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have two swords in one scabberd,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full deere they cost my purse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou shalt have the best of them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will have the worse."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first stroke that little Musgrave stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hurt Lord Barnard sore;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little Musgrave ne're struck more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that bespake this faire lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bed whereas she lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Although thou'rt dead, thou little Musgrave,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet I for thee will pray;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And wish well to thy soule will I,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So long as I have life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So will I not for thee, Barnard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Although I am thy wedded wife."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He cut her paps from off her brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Great pity it was to see,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That some drops of this ladies heart's blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ran trickling downe her knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Woe worth you, woe worth [you], my mery men all,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You were ne're borne for my good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why did you not offer to stay my hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When ye <a name="LNanchor_2a_108" id="LNanchor_2a_108"></a><a href="#Linenote_2a_108" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">saw</a> me wax so wood!<!-- Page 21 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For I have slaine the bravest sir knight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever rode on steed;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So have I done the fairest lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever did womans deed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A grave, a grave," Lord Barnard cryd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To put these lovers in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lay my lady on [the] upper hand,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she came of the better kin."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_8" id="Linenote_2a_8"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_8" title="link to line number">8</a>, lady.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_10" id="Linenote_2a_10"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_10" title="link to line number">10</a>, pale.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_11" id="Linenote_2a_11"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_11" title="link to line number">11</a>, Bernards.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_22" id="Linenote_2a_22"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_22" title="link to line number">22</a>, geight.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_23" id="Linenote_2a_23"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_23" title="link to line number">23</a>, wed.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_29" id="Linenote_2a_29"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_29" title="link to line number">29</a>, With that he heard: tyne.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_34" id="Linenote_2a_34"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_34" title="link to line number">34</a>, sinn.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_37" id="Linenote_2a_37"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_37" title="link to line number">37</a>, or wake.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_55" id="Linenote_2a_55"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_55" title="link to line number">55</a>, And ever.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_2a_108" id="Linenote_2a_108"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2a_108" title="link to line number">108</a>, see.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 22 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_RANDAL_A" id="LORD_RANDAL_A"></a>LORD RANDAL (A).</h3> + +<p class="center">From Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads and Songs</i>, i. 162.</p> + + +<p>"The story of this ballad very much resembles that +of <i>Little Musgrave and Lord Barnard</i>. The common +title is, <i>The Bonny Birdy</i>. The first stanza is sung +thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'There was a knight, on a summer's night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was riding o'er the lee, <i>diddle</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he saw a bonny birdy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was singing on a tree, <i>diddle</i>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wow for day, <i>diddle</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the text, the burden of <i>diddle</i> has been omitted; +and the name of Lord Randal introduced, for the sake +of distinction, and to prevent the ambiguity arising +from 'the knight,' which is equally applicable to both."</p> + +<p>The lines supplied by Jamieson have been omitted.</p> + +<p>Allan Cunningham's "improved" version of the +<i>Bonny Birdy</i> may be seen in his <i>Songs of Scotland</i>, ii. +130.<!-- Page 23 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Randal wight, on a summer's night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was riding o'er the lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he saw a bonny birdie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was singin' on a tree:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wow for day!<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mak haste, mak haste, ye wicht baron;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What keeps ye here sae late?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I trow ye wad look blate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and ye were away;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what needs I toil day and night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My fair body to spill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I ha'e knichts at my command,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ladies at my will?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O weel is he, ye wight baron,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has the blear drawn o'er his e'e;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But your lady has a knight in her arms twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she lo'es far better nor thee.<!-- Page 24 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And O wow for day!<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and ye were away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye lie, ye lie, ye bonny birdie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How you lie upon my sweet;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will tak out my bonny bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in troth I will you sheet."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But afore ye ha'e your bow weel bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' your arrows yare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will flee till anither tree,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare I can better fare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And O wow for day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay!"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare was ye gotten, and where was ye clecked,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bonny birdie, tell me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O, I was clecked in good green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Intill a holly tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A baron sae bald my nest herried,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ga'e me to his ladie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wi' good white bread, and farrow-cow milk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bade her feed me aft;<!-- Page 25 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ga'e her a little wee summer-dale wandie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To ding me sindle and saft.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wi' good white bread, and farrow-cow milk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wat she fed me nought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wi' a little wee summer-dale wandie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She dang me sair and oft:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin she had done as ye her bade,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wadna tell how she has wrought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and ye were away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ye ha'ena lang time to stay."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Randal rade, and the birdie flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The live-lang summer's night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he cam till his lady's bower-door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then even down he did light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birdie sat on the crap o' a tree,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I wat it sang fu' dight:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay!"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<!-- Page 26 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and ye were away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now Christ assoile me o' my sin,"<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fause knight he could say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_2b_77" id="LNanchor_2b_77"></a><a href="#Linenote_2b_77" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"It's nae for nought that the hawk whistles;</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I wish that I were away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What needs ye lang for day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wish that ye were away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is na your hounds in my cellar<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Eating white meal and gray?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet, O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay!"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is na your horse in my stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Eating good corn and hay?<!-- Page 27 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is na your hawk on my perch tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just perching for his prey?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And isna yoursel in my arms twa;<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then how can ye lang for day?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet, O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin it were day, and I were away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I ha'ena lang time to stay.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet, O wow for day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear gin it were day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he that's in bed wi' anither man's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has never lang time to stay."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out Lord Randal drew his brand,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And straiked it o'er a strae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through and through the fause knight's waste<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gar'd cald iron gae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hope ilk ane sall sae be serv'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That treats an honest man sae!<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_2b_77" id="Linenote_2b_77"></a><a href="#LNanchor_2b_77" title="link to line number">77</a>, This is a proverbial saying in Scotland. J.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 28 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="GIL_MORRICE" id="GIL_MORRICE"></a>GIL MORRICE.</h3> + + +<p>"Of the many ancient ballads which have been +preserved by tradition among the peasantry of Scotland, +none has excited more interest in the world of +letters than the beautiful and pathetic tale of <i>Gil Morice</i>; +and this, no less on account of its own intrinsic +merits as a piece of exquisite poetry, than of its having +furnished the plot of the justly celebrated tragedy +of <i>Douglas</i>. It has likewise supplied Mr. Langhorne +with the principal materials from which he has woven +the fabric of his sweet, though prolix poem of <i>Owen of +Carron</i>. Perhaps the list could be easily increased of +those who have drawn their inspiration from this affecting +strain of Olden Minstrelsy.</p> + +<p>"If any reliance is to be placed on the traditions of +that part of the country where the scene of the ballad +is laid, we will be enforced to believe that it is founded +on facts which occurred at some remote period of Scottish +History. The 'grene wode' of the ballad was the +ancient forest of Dundaff, in Stirlingshire, and Lord +Barnard's Castle is said to have occupied a precipitous +cliff, overhanging the water of Carron, on the lands of +Halbertshire. A small burn, which joins the Carron<!-- Page 29 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +about five miles above these lands, is named the Earlsburn, +and the hill near the source of that stream is +called the Earlshill, both deriving their appellations, +according to the unvarying traditions of the country, +from the unfortunate Erle's son who is the hero of the +ballad. He, also, according to the same respectable +authority, was 'beautiful exceedingly,' and especially +remarkable for the extreme length and loveliness of +his yellow hair, which shrouded him as it were a golden +mist. To these floating traditions we are, probably, +indebted for the attempts which have been made to +improve and embellish the ballad, by the introduction +of various new stanzas since its first appearance in a +printed form.</p> + +<p>"In Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, it is mentioned that it had run +through two editions in Scotland, the second of which +appeared at Glasgow in 1755, 8vo.; and that to both +there was prefixed an advertisement, setting forth that +the preservation of the poem was owing 'to a lady, who +favoured the printers with a copy, as it was carefully collected +from the mouths of old women and nurses,' and +requesting that 'any reader, who could render it more +correct or complete, would oblige the public with such +improvements.' This was holding out too tempting a +bait not to be greedily snapped at by some of those 'Ingenious +Hands' who have corrupted the purity of legendary +song in Scotland by manifest forgeries and gross impositions. +Accordingly, sixteen additional verses soon +appeared in manuscript, which the Editor of the <i>Reliques</i> +has inserted in their proper places, though he +rightly views them in no better light than that of an +ingenious interpolation. Indeed, the whole ballad of +<i>Gil Morice</i>, as the writer of the present notice has been +politely informed by the learned and elegant Editor of<!-- Page 30 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +the <i>Border Minstrelsy</i>, underwent a total revisal about +the period when the tragedy of <i>Douglas</i> was in the zenith +of its popularity, and this improved copy, it seems, +embraced the ingenious interpolation above referred +to. Independent altogether of this positive information, +any one, familiar with the state in which traditionary +poetry has been transmitted to the present +times, can be at no loss to detect many more 'ingenious +interpolations,' as well as paraphrastic additions, +in the ballad as now printed. But, though it has been +grievously corrupted in this way, the most scrupulous +inquirer into the authenticity of ancient song can have +no hesitation in admitting that many of its verses, even +as they now stand, are purely traditionary, and fair, +and genuine parcels of antiquity, unalloyed with any +base admixture of modern invention, and in nowise +altered, save in those changes of language to which all +oral poetry is unavoidably subjected, in its progress +from one age to another." <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + +<p>We have given <i>Gil Morrice</i> as it stands in the <i>Reliques</i>, +(iii. 132,) degrading to the margin those stanzas +which are undoubtedly spurious, and we have +added an ancient traditionary version, obtained by +Motherwell, which, if it appear short and crude, is at +least comparatively incorrupt. <i>Chield Morice</i>, taken +down from recitation, and printed in Motherwell's +<i>Minstrelsy</i>, (p. 269,) nearly resembles <i>Gil Morrice</i>, as +here exhibited. We have also inserted in the Appendix +<i>Childe Maurice</i>, "the very old imperfect copy," +mentioned in the <i>Reliques</i>, and first published from +the Percy MS. by Jamieson.</p> + +<p>The sets of <i>Gil Morrice</i> in the collections of Herd, +Pinkerton, Ritson, &c., are all taken from Percy.<!-- Page 31 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gil Morrice was an erles son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His name it waxed wide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was nae for his great riches,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor zet his mickle pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_3a_5" id="LNanchor_3a_5"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_5" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Bot it was for a lady gay</a><span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That liv'd on Carron side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Quhair sall I get a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will win hose and shoen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That will gae to Lord Barnard's ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid his lady cum?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ze maun rin my errand, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ze may rin wi' pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quhen other boys gae on their foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On horseback ze sall ride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O no! O no! my master dear!<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I dare nae for my life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll no gae to the bauld barons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to triest furth his wife."<!-- Page 32 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My bird Willie, my boy Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My dear Willie," he sayd:<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"How can ze strive against the stream?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I sall be obeyd."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bot, O my master dear!" he cry'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"In grene wod ze're zour lain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For fear ze should be tain."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bid hir cum here wi' speid:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ze refuse my heigh command,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll gar zour body bleid.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'T is a' gowd bot the hem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bring nane hot hir lain:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And there it is, a silken sarke,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hir ain hand sewd the sleive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid hir cum to Gill Morice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Speir nae bauld barons leave."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, I will gae zour black errand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though it be to zour cost;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In it ze sall find frost.<!-- Page 33 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The baron he is a man of might,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He neir could bide to taunt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ze will see, before it's nicht,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">How sma' ze hae to vaunt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And sen I maun zour errand rin<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sair against my will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'se mak a vow and keip it trow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It sall be done for ill."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_3a_51" id="LNanchor_3a_51"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_51" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And quhen he came to broken brigue,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bent his bow and swam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quhen he came to grass growing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set down his feet and ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And quhen he came to Barnard's ha',<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would neither chap nor ca';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot set his bent bow to his breist,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lichtly lap the wa'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He wauld nae tell the man his errand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though he stude at the gait;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot straiht into the ha' he cam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quhair they were set at meit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My message winna waite;<!-- Page 34 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that it be late.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ze're bidden tak this gay mantel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis a' gowd bot the hem:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ev'n by your sel alane.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And there it is, a silken sarke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your ain hand sewd the sleive:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Speir nae bauld barons leave."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady stamped wi' hir foot,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And winked wi' hir ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' that she could say or do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Forbidden he wad nae bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's surely to my bow'r-woman;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It neir could be to me."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I brocht it to Lord Barnard's lady;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I trow that ze be she."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spack the wylie nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(The bairn upon hir knee):<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If it be cum frae Gill Morice,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's deir welcum to mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae loud I heird ze lee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I brocht it to Lord Barnard's lady;<br /></span> +<!-- Page 35 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><span class="i2">I trow ze be nae shee."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spack the bauld baron,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An angry man was hee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's tain the table wi' his foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae has he wi' his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till siller cup and <a name="LNanchor_3a_95" id="LNanchor_3a_95"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_95" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">ezer</a> dish<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In flinders he gard flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae bring a robe of zour cliding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hings upon the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And speik wi' zour lemman."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bide at hame, now, Lord Barnard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I warde ze bide at hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neir wyte a man for violence,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That neir wate ze wi' nane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He whistled and he sang:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O what mean a' the folk coming?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My mother tarries lang."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_3a_109" id="LNanchor_3a_109"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_109" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The baron came to the grene wode,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mickle dule and care;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he first spied Gill Morice<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kameing his zellow hair.<!-- Page 36 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lady loed thee weel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest part of my bodie<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is blacker than thy heel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Zet neir the less now, Gill Morice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' thy great beautie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ze's rew the day ze eir was born;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That head sall gae wi' me."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now he has drawn his trusty brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And <a name="LNanchor_3a_122" id="LNanchor_3a_122"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_122" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">slait it</a> on the strae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thro' Gill Morice' fair body<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's gar cauld iron gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_3a_125" id="LNanchor_3a_125"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_125" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And he has tain Gill Morice' head,</a><span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set it on a speir:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The meanest man in a' his train<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has gotten that head to bear.<!-- Page 37 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has tain Gill Morice up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid him across his steid,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brocht him to his painted bowr,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laid him on a bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady sat on castil wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beheld baith dale and doun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she saw Gill Morice' head<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cum trailing to the toun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Far better I loe that bluidy head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bot and that zellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than Lord Barnard, and a' his lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they lig here and thair."<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she has tain her Gill Morice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kissd baith mouth and chin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I was once as fow of Gill Morice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the hip is o' the stean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I got ze in my father's house,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mickle sin and shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I brocht thee up in gude green wode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under the heavy rain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oft have I by thy cradle sitten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fondly seen thee sleip;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bot now I gae about thy grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The saut tears for to weip."<!-- Page 38 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_3a_153" id="LNanchor_3a_153"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_153" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And syne she kissd</a> his bluidy cheik,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne his bluidy chin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O better I loe my Gill Morice<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than a' my kith and kin!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_3a_157" id="LNanchor_3a_157"></a><a href="#Linenote_3a_157" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"Away, away, ze il woman,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an ill deith mait ze dee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin I had ken'd he'd bin zour son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'd neir bin slain for mee."<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_5" id="Linenote_3a_5"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_5" title="link to line number">5</a>. The stall copies of the ballad complete the stanza thus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>His face was fair, lang was his hair,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In the wild woods he staid;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But his fame was for a fair lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lived on Carronside.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Which is no injudicious interpolation, inasmuch as it is founded +upon the traditions current among the vulgar, regarding +Gil Morice's comely face and long yellow hair. <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_51" id="Linenote_3a_51"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_51" title="link to line number">51-58</a>. A familiar commonplace in ballad poetry. See +<i>Childe Vyet</i>, <i>Lady Maisry</i>, <i>Lord Barnaby</i>, &c.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_95" id="Linenote_3a_95"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_95" title="link to line number">95</a>, mazer.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_109" id="Linenote_3a_109"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_109" title="link to line number">109</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His hair was like the threeds of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drawne frae Minerva's loome;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lipps like roses drapping dew;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His breath was a' perfume.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His brow was like the mountain snae<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gilt by the morning beam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cheeks like living roses glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His een like azure stream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boy was clad in robes of grene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweete as the infant spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like the mavis on the bush,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gart the vallies ring.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_122" id="Linenote_3a_122"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_122" title="link to line number">122</a>, slaited.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_125" id="Linenote_3a_125"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_125" title="link to line number">125</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That sweetly wavd around his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That face beyond compare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sang sae sweet, it might dispel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A' rage but fell dispair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_153" id="Linenote_3a_153"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_153" title="link to line number">153</a>. Stall copy, And <i>first</i> she kissed.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_3a_157" id="Linenote_3a_157"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3a_157" title="link to line number">157</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Obraid me not for shame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' that saim speir, O pierce my heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put me out o' pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Since nothing bot Gill Morice' head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy jelous rage could quell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let that saim hand now tak hir life<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That neir to thee did ill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To me nae after days nor nichts<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will eir be saft or kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And greet till I am blind."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seek not zour death frae me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I rather lourd it had been my sel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than eather him or thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With waefo wae I hear zour plaint;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sair, sair I rew the deid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That eir this cursed hand of mine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had gard his body bleid.<!-- Page 39 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dry up zour tears, my winsome dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ze neir can heal the wound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ze see his head upon the speir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His heart's blude on the ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I curse the hand that did the deid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heart that thocht the ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The comely zouth to kill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As gin he were mine ain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll neir forget the dreiry day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On which the zouth was slain."<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 40 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHILD_NORYCE" id="CHILD_NORYCE"></a>CHILD NORYCE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 282.</p> + + +<p>"By testimony of a most unexceptionable description,—but +which it would be tedious here to detail,—the +Editor can distinctly trace this ballad as existing in +its present shape at least a century ago, which carries +it decidedly beyond the date of the first printed copy +of <i>Gil Morice</i>; and this with a poem which has been +preserved but by oral tradition, is no mean <i>positive</i> +antiquity."</p> + +<p>In the Introduction to his collection, Motherwell +mentions his having found a more complete copy of this +ballad under the title of <i>Babe Nourice</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Child Noryce is a clever young man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wavers wi' the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His horse was silver shod before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the beaten gold behind.<!-- Page 41 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He called to his little man John,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saying, "You don't see what I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For O yonder I see the very first woman<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever loved me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here is a glove, a glove," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Lined with the silver gris;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may tell her to come to the merry green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To speak to Child Nory.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here is a ring, a ring," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It's all gold but the stane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may tell her to come to the merry green wood,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ask the leave o' nane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So well do I love your errand, my master,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But far better do I love my life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O would ye have me go to Lord Barnard's castel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To betray away his wife?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O don't I give you meat," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And don't I pay you fee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How dare you stop my errand?" he says;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My orders you must obey."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O when he came to Lord Barnard's castel,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He tinkled at the ring;<!-- Page 42 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who was as ready as <a name="LNanchor_3b_27" id="LNanchor_3b_27"></a><a href="#Linenote_3b_27" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Lord Barnard</a> himself<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To let this little boy in?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here is a glove, a glove," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Lined with the silver gris;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are bidden to come to the merry green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To speak to Child Nory.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here is a ring, a ring," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It's all gold but the stane:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are bidden to come to the merry green wood,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ask the leave o' nane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Barnard he was standing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an angry man was he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O little did I think there was a lord in this world<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lady loved but me!"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he dressed himself in the Holland smocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And garments that was gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is away to the merry green wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To speak to Child Nory.<!-- Page 43 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Child Noryce sits on yonder tree,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He whistles and he sings:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wae be to me," says Child Noryce,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Yonder my mother comes!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Child Noryce he came off the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His mother to take off the horse:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Och alace, alace," says Child Noryce,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My mother was ne'er so gross."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Barnard he had a little small sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hung low down by his knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cut the head off Child Noryce,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put the body on a tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to his castel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to his lady's hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He threw the head into her lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saying, "Lady, there is a ball!"<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turned up the bloody head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She kissed it frae cheek to chin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Far better do I love this bloody head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than all my royal kin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When I was in my father's castell,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In my virginitie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a lord into the North,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gat Child Noryce with me."<!-- Page 44 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae be to thee, Lady Margaret," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And an ill death may you die;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if you had told me he was your son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He had ne'er been slain by me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_3b_27" id="Linenote_3b_27"></a><a href="#LNanchor_3b_27" title="link to line number">27</a>. This unquestionably should be Lady Barnard, instead of her lord. See third stanza under. M.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 45 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CLERK_SAUNDERS" id="CLERK_SAUNDERS"></a>CLERK SAUNDERS.</h3> + + +<p>From the <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, (iii. 175,) +where it was first published. It was "taken from Mr. +Herd's MSS., with several corrections from a shorter +and more imperfect copy in the same volume, and one +or two conjectural emendations in the arrangement of +the stanzas."</p> + +<p>That that part of the ballad which follows the +death of the lovers is an independent story, is obvious +both from internal evidence, and from the separate +existence of those concluding stanzas in a variety of +forms: as, <i>Sweet William's Ghost</i>, (<i>Tea-Table Miscellany</i>, +ii. 142,) <i>Sweet William and May Margaret</i>, +(Kinloch, p. 241,) <i>William and Marjorie</i>, (Motherwell, +p. 186.) Of this second part, Motherwell observes, +that it is often made the tail-piece to other ballads +where a deceased lover appears to his mistress. +The two were, however, combined by Sir Walter Scott, +and the present Editor has contented himself with indicating +distinctly the close of the proper story.</p> + +<p>An inferior copy of <i>Clerk Saunders</i>, published by +Jamieson, is inserted in the Appendix, for the sake of<!-- Page 46 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +a few valuable stanzas. It resembles the Swedish +ballad of <i>The Cruel Brother</i>, (<i>Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, +iii. 107,) which, however, is much shorter. The edition +of Buchan, (i. 160,) is entirely worthless. A North-Country +version of the First Part is given by Kinloch, +<i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, 233.</p> + +<h4>PART FIRST.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk Saunders and may Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Walked ower yon garden green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sad and heavy was the love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That fell thir twa between.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"A bed for you and me!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Till anes we married be;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For in may come my seven bauld brothers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' torches burning bright;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll say—'We hae but ae sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And behold she's wi' a knight!'"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then take the sword from my scabbard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slowly lift the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you may swear, and safe your aith,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye never let Clerk Saunders in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And take a napkin in your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tie up baith your bonny een;<!-- Page 47 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you may swear, and safe your aith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_4_20" id="LNanchor_4_20"></a><a href="#Linenote_4_20" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Ye saw me na since late yestreen</a>."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was about the midnight hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they asleep were laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in and came her seven brothers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' torches burning red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When in and came her seven brothers,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' torches burning bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They said, "We hae but ae sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And behold her lying with a knight!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out and spake the first o' them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I bear the sword shall gar him die!"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out and spake the second o' them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"His father has nae mair than he!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And out and spake the third o' them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wot that they are lovers dear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out and spake the fourth o' them,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"They hae been in love this mony a year!"<!-- Page 48 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out and spake the fifth o' them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It were great sin true love to twain!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out and spake the sixth of them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It were shame to slay a sleeping man!"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and gat the seventh o' them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never a word spake he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he has striped his bright brown brand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turn'd<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into his arms as asleep she lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sad and silent was the night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was atween thir twae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they lay still and sleeped sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until the day began to daw;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kindly to him she did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It is time, true love, you were awa."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he lay still, and sleeped sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Albeit the sun began to sheen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She looked atween her and the wa',<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dull and drowsie were his een.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then in and came her father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said—"Let a' your mourning be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 49 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><span class="i2">And I'll come back and comfort thee."—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Comfort weel your seven sons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For comforted will I never be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ween 'twas neither knave nor loon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was in the bower last night wi' me."—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_4_20" id="Linenote_4_20"></a><a href="#LNanchor_4_20" title="link to line number">20</a>. In Kinloch's version of this ballad we have an additional +stanza here:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">——"Ye'll take me in your arms twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll carry me into your bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye may swear, and save your aith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in your bour floor I ne'er gae'd."<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h4>PART SECOND.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_4_1" id="LNanchor_4_1"></a><a href="#Linenote_4_1" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The clinking bell gaed through the town</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To carry the dead corse to the clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret's window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot, an hour before the day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Are ye sleeping, Margaret?" he says,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or are ye waking presentlie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my faith and troth again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot, true love, I gied to thee."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your faith and troth ye sall never get,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor our true love sall never twin,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until ye come within my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss me cheik and chin."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It has the smell, now, of the ground;<!-- Page 50 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if I kiss thy comely mouth,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy days of life will not be lang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cocks are crowing a merry midnight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot the wild fowls are boding day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my faith and troth again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let me fare me on my way."—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy faith and troth thou sall na get,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And our true love shall never twin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until ye tell what comes of women,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot, who die in strong traiveling."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Their beds are made in the heavens high,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weel set about wi' gillyflowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot sweet company for to see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cocks are crowing a merry midnight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot the wild fowl are boding day;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The psalms of heaven will soon be sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I, ere now, will be miss'd away."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she has ta'en a <a name="LNanchor_4_33" id="LNanchor_4_33"></a><a href="#Linenote_4_33" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">crystal</a> wand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she has stroken her troth thereon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has given it him out at the shot-window,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aye I thank ye heartilie;<!-- Page 51 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ever the dead come for the quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be sure, Marg'ret, I'll come for thee."—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's hosen and shoon and gown alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She climb'd the wall, and follow'd him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until she came to the green forest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there she lost the sight o' him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is there ony room at your head, Saunders?<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is there ony room at your feet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or ony room at your side, Saunders,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's nae room at my head, Marg'ret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's nae room at my feet;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My bed it is full lowly now:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang the hungry worms I sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cauld mould is my covering now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But and my winding-sheet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dew it falls nae sooner down,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than my resting place is weet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<a name="LNanchor_4_57" id="LNanchor_4_57"></a><a href="#Linenote_4_57" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">But plait a wand o' bonny birk</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay it on my breast;<!-- Page 52 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shed a tear upon my grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wish my saul gude rest.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And fair Marg'ret, and rare Marg'ret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Marg'ret o' veritie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin e'er ye love another man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ne'er love him as ye did me."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and crew the milk-white cock,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And up and crew the grey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lover vanish'd in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she gaed weeping away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_4_1" id="Linenote_4_1"></a><a href="#LNanchor_4_1" title="link to line number">1</a>. The custom of the passing bell is still kept up in many +villages in Scotland. The sexton goes through the town, +ringing a small bell, and announcing the death of the departed, +and the time of the funeral. <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_4_33" id="Linenote_4_33"></a><a href="#LNanchor_4_33" title="link to line number">33</a>. Chrisom.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_4_57" id="Linenote_4_57"></a><a href="#LNanchor_4_57" title="link to line number">57</a>. The custom of binding the new-laid sod of the churchyard +with osiers, or other saplings, prevailed both in England +and Scotland, and served to protect the turf from injury +by cattle, or otherwise. <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 53 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SWEET_WILLIE_AND_LADY_MARGERIE" id="SWEET_WILLIE_AND_LADY_MARGERIE"></a>SWEET WILLIE AND LADY MARGERIE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 370.</p> + + +<p>"This Ballad, which possesses considerable beauty +and pathos, is given from the recitation of a lady, +now far advanced in years, with whose grandmother +it was a deserved favourite. It is now for the first +time printed. It bears some resemblance to <i>Clerk +Saunders</i>."</p> + +<p>Subjoined is a different copy from Buchan's <i>Ballads +of the North of Scotland</i>.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet Willie was a widow's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he wore a milk-white weed O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weel could Willie read and write,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far better ride on steed O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Margerie was the first ladye<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That drank to him the wine O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye as the healths gaed round and round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Laddy, your love is mine O."<!-- Page 54 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Margerie was the first ladye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That drank to him the beer O;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye as the healths gaed round and round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laddy, ye're welcome here O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You must come intill my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the evening bells do ring O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you must come intill my bower,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the evening mass doth sing O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen four-and-twenty braid arrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laced them in a whang O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's awa to Lady Margerie's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he can gang O.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set his ae foot on the wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the other on a stane O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's kill'd a' the king's life guards,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's kill'd them every man O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O open, open, Lady Margerie,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Open and let me in O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weet weets a' my yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the dew draps on my chin O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With her feet as white as sleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She strode her bower within O;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with her fingers lang and sma',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's looten sweet Willie in O.<!-- Page 55 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's louted down unto his foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To lowze sweet Willie's shoon O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The buckles were sae stiff they wadna lowze,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The blood had frozen in O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Willie, O Willie, I fear that thou<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hast bred me dule and sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deed that thou hast done this nicht<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will kythe upon the morrow."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In then came her father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a braid sword by his gare O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's gien Willie, the widow's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A deep wound and a sair O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Your sweat weets a' my side O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For your sweat I downa bide O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turned her back unto the wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her face unto the room O;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she saw her auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fast walking up and doun O.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Woe be to you, father," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And an ill deid may you die O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ye've killed Willie, the widow's son,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he would have married me O."<!-- Page 56 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turned her back unto the room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her face unto the wa' O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a deep and heavy sich,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her heart it brak in twa O.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 57 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="WILLIE_AND_LADY_MAISRY" id="WILLIE_AND_LADY_MAISRY"></a>WILLIE AND LADY MAISRY.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 155.</p> + + +<p><i>The Bent sae Brown</i>, in the same volume, p. 30, +resembles both <i>Clerk Saunders</i> and the present ballad, +but has a different catastrophe.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet Willie was a widow's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And milk-white was his weed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sets him weel to bridle a horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And better to saddle a steed, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And better to saddle a steed.<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he is on to Maisry's bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye sleep ye, wake ye, Lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll open, let me come in, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll open, let me come in."<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O who is this at my bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae well that knows my name?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is your ain true love, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If ye love me, lat me in, my dear,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 58 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span><span class="i2">If ye love me, lat me in."<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then huly, huly raise she up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For fear o' making din;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in her arms lang and bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She caught sweet Willie in, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She caught sweet Willie in.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lean'd her low down to her toe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To loose her true love's sheen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cauld, cauld were the draps o' bleed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell fae his trusty brand, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell fae his trusty brand.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What frightfu' sight is that, my love?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A frightfu' sight to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What bluid is this on your sharp brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O may ye not tell me, my dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O may ye not tell me?"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As I came thro' the woods this night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wolf maist worried me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O shou'd I slain the wolf, Maisry?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or shou'd the wolf slain me, my dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or shou'd the wolf slain me?"<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna kiss'd nor love clapped,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As lovers when they meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till up it starts her auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out o' his drowsy sleep, my dear,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 59 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span><span class="i2">Out o' his drowsy sleep.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what's become o' my house cock<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae crouse at ane did craw?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wonder as much at my bold watch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's nae shootin ower the wa', my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's nae shooting ower the wa'.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My gude house cock, my only son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heir ower my land sae free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ony ruffian hae him slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High hanged shall he be, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High hanged shall he be."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's on to Maisry's bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye sleep ye, wake ye, daughter Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll open, lat me come in, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll open, lat me come in."<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Between the curtains and the wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She row'd her true love then;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And huly went she to the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let her father in, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let her father in.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What's become o' your maries, Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your bower it looks sae teem?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's become o' your green claithing?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your beds they are sae thin, my dear,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 60 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><span class="i2">Your beds they are sae thin."<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gude forgie you, father," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wish ye be't for sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae aft as ye hae dreaded me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never found me wrang, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never found me wrang."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turn'd him right and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he'd been gaun awa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sae nimbly as he slippet in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behind a screen sae sma', my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behind a screen sae sma'.<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Maisry thinking a' dangers past,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She to her love did say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Come, love, and take your silent rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My auld father's away, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My auld father's away!"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then baith lock'd in each other's arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They fell full fast asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up it starts her auld father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood at their bed feet, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood at their bed feet.<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I think I hae the villain now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That my dear son did slay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I shall be reveng'd on him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before I see the day, my dear,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 61 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span><span class="i2">Before I see the day."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's drawn out a trusty brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stroak'd it o'er a stray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thro' and thro' sweet Willie's middle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's gart cauld iron gae, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's gart cauld iron gae.<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up it waken'd Lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out o' her drowsy sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when she saw her true love slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She straight began to weep, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She straight began to weep.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gude forgie you now, father," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wish ye be't for sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I never lov'd a love but ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In my arms ye've him slain, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In my arms ye've him slain."<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This night he's slain my gude bold watch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thirty stout men and twa;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Likewise he's slain your ae brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me was worth them a', my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me was worth them a'."<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If he has slain my ae brither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Himsell had a' the blame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For mony a day he plots contriv'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hae sweet Willie slain, my dear,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 62 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span><span class="i2">To hae sweet Willie slain.<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And tho' he's slain your gude bold watch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He might hae been forgien;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They came on him in armour bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was but alane, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was but alane."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nae meen was made for this young knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bower where he lay slain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' was for sweet Maisry bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In fields where she ran brain, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In fields where she ran brain.<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 63 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CLERKS_TWA_SONS_O_OWSENFORD" id="THE_CLERKS_TWA_SONS_O_OWSENFORD"></a>THE CLERK'S TWA SONS O' OWSENFORD.</h3> + + +<p>"This singularly wild and beautiful old ballad," says +Chambers, (<i>Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 345,) "is chiefly taken +from the recitation of the editor's grandmother, who +learned it, when a girl, nearly seventy years ago, from a +Miss Anne Gray, resident at Neidpath Castle, Peeblesshire; +some additional stanzas, and a few various +readings, being adopted from a less perfect, and far +less poetical copy, published in Mr. Buchan's [<i>Ancient +Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 281,] +and from a fragment in the <i>Border Minstrelsy</i>, entitled +<i>The Wife of Usher's Well</i>, [vol. i. p. 214, of this collection,] +but which is evidently the same narrative."<a name="FNanchor_A" id="FNanchor_A"></a><a href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> +</p> + +<p>"The editor has been induced to divide this ballad +into two parts, on account of the <i>great superiority of +what follows over what goes before, and because the latter +portion is in a great measure independent of the +other</i>, so far as sense is concerned. The first part is +composed of the Peeblesshire version, mingled with +that of the northern editor: the second is formed of +the Peeblesshire version, mingled with the fragment +called <i>The Wife of Usher's Well</i>."<!-- Page 64 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>The natural desire of men to hear more of characters +in whom they have become strongly interested, +has frequently stimulated the attempt to continue +successful fictions, and such supplements are proverbially +unfortunate. A ballad-singer would have powerful +inducements to gratify this passion of his audience, +and he could most economically effect the object +by stringing two ballads together. When a tale ended +tragically, the sequel must of necessity be a ghost-story, +and we have already had, in <i>Clerk Saunders</i>, an +instance of this combination. Mr. Chambers has furnished +the best possible reasons for believing that the +same process has taken place in the case of the present +ballad, and that the two parts, (which occur separately,) +having originally had no connection, were arbitrarily +united, to suit the purposes of some unscrupulous rhapsodist.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A" id="Footnote_A"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_A"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> There is to a certain extent a resemblance between this ballad and +the German ballad <i>Das Schloss in Oesterreich</i>, found in most of the +German collections, and in Swedish and Danish.</p></div> + + +<h4>PART FIRST.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O I will sing to you a sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will grieve your heart full sair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the Clerk's twa sons o' Owsenford<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have to learn some unco lear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna been in fair Parish<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A twelvemonth and a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the Clerk's twa sons fell deep in love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the Mayor's dauchters twae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And aye as the twa clerks sat and wrote,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 65 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span><span class="i2">The ladies sewed and sang;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was mair mirth in that chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than in a' fair Ferrol's land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But word's gane to the michty Mayor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he sailed on the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the Clerk's twa sons made licht lemans<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' his fair dauchters twae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If they hae wranged my twa dauchters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Janet and Marjorie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The morn, ere I taste meat or drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hie hangit they shall be."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And word's gane to the clerk himsell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he was drinking wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That his twa sons at fair Parish<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were bound in prison strang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spak the Clerk's ladye,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she spak tenderlie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O tak wi' ye a purse o' gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or even tak ye three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if ye canna get William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring Henry hame to me."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sweetly sang the nightingale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she sat on the wand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sair, sair mourned Owsenford,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he gaed in the strand.<!-- Page 66 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he came to their prison strang,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He rade it round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at a little shot-window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His sons were looking out.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lie ye there, my sons," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For owsen or for kye?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or what is it that ye lie for,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sair bound as ye lie?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We lie not here for owsen, father;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet do we for kye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it's for a little o' dear-boucht love,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sair bound as we lie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O borrow us, borrow us, father," they said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For the luve we bear to thee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O never fear, my pretty sons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weel borrowed ye sall be."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's gane to the michty Mayor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he spak courteouslie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Will ye grant my twa sons' lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Either for gold or fee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye be sae gude a man,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As grant them baith to me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll no grant ye your twa sons' lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Neither for gold nor fee;<!-- Page 67 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I be sae gude a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As gie them baith to thee;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before the morn at twal o'clock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll see them hangit hie!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ben it came the Mayor's dauchters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' kirtle coat alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their eyes did sparkle like the gold,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they tripped on the stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will ye gie us our loves, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For gold, or yet for fee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye take our own sweet lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let our true loves be?"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen a whip into his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lashed them wondrous sair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gae to your bowers, ye vile limmers;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'se never see them mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks auld Owsenford;<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sorry man was he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gang to your bouirs, ye lilye flouirs;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' this maunna be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks him Hynde Henry:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Come here, Janet, to me;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will ye gie me my faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And love, as I gae thee?"<!-- Page 68 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye sall hae your faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' God's blessing and mine:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twenty times she kissed his mouth,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her father looking on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks him gay William:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Come here, sweet Marjorie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will ye gie me my faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And love, as I gae thee?"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, ye sall hae your faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' God's blessing and mine:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twenty times she kissed his mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her father looking on.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye'll tak aff your twa black hats,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay them down on a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nane may ken that ye are clerks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ye are putten doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bonnie clerks they died that morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their loves died lang ere noon;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the waefu' Clerk o' Owsenford<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To his lady has gane hame.<br /></span> +<!-- Page 69 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>PART SECOND.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His lady sat on her castle wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beholding dale and doun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she saw her ain gude lord<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come walking to the toun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye're welcome, ye're welcome, my ain gude lord,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye're welcome hame to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where-away are my twa sons?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye suld hae brought them wi' ye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O they are putten to a deeper lear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to a higher scule:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your ain twa sons will no be hame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the hallow days o' Yule."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sorrow, sorrow, come mak my bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, dule, come lay me doun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I will neither eat nor drink,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor set a fit on groun'!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hallow days o' Yule were come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the nights were lang and mirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in and cam her ain twa sons,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 70 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span><span class="i2">And their hats made o' the birk.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It neither grew in syke nor ditch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet in ony sheuch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at the gates o' Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That birk grew fair eneuch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Blow up the fire, now, maidens mine,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring water from the well;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a' my house shall feast this night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since my twa sons are well.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O eat and drink, my merry-men a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The better shall ye fare;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my two sons they are come hame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me for evermair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she has gane and made their bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's made it saft and fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's happit them wi' her gay mantil,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because they were her ain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the young cock crew in the merry Linkum,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the wild fowl chirped for day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the aulder to the younger said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Brother, we maun away.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The channerin worm doth chide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin we be missed out o' our place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sair pain we maun bide."<!-- Page 71 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lie still, lie still a little wee while,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lie still but if we may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll gae mad ere it be day."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O it's they've taen up their mother's mantil,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they've hung it on a pin:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantil,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere ye hap us again."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 72 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHILDE_VYET" id="CHILDE_VYET"></a>CHILDE VYET.</h3> + + +<p>First printed in a complete form in Maidment's +<i>North Countrie Garland</i>, p. 24. The same editor contributed +a slightly different copy to Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, +(p. 173.) An inferior version is furnished by +Buchan, i. 234, and Jamieson has published a fragment +on the same story, here given in the <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were both born in ane bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had both their loves on one Lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_7_4" id="LNanchor_7_4"></a><a href="#Linenote_7_4" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">The less was their honour</a>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Childe Vyet and Lord Ingram,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were both born in one hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had both their loves on one Lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The worse did them befall.<!-- Page 73 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From father and from mother;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From sister and from brother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With leave of all her kin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every one gave full consent,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But she said no, to him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into her father's ha';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Childe Vyet wooed the Lady Maiserey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Among the sheets so sma'.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now it fell out upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was dressing her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ben did come her father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wearing the gold so red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Get up now, Lady Maiserey,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put on your wedding gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Lord Ingram will be here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your wedding must be done!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white fish for to sell,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I were Lord Ingram's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wear the silk so well!<!-- Page 74 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With him to beg my bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I'd be Lord Ingram's wife,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wear the gold so red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where will I get a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will win gold to his fee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will run unto Childe Vyet's ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With this letter from me?"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O here, I am the boy," says one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Will win gold to my fee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carry away any letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Childe Vyet from thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he found the bridges broke,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bent his bow and swam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he found the grass growing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hasten'd and he ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to Vyet's castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He did not knock nor call,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But set his bent bow to his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lightly leaped the wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ere the porter open'd the gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The boy was in the hall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first line that Childe Vyet read,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A grieved man was he;<!-- Page 75 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next line that he looked on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A tear blinded his e'e.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What ails my own brother," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"He'll not let my love be;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll send to my brother's bridal;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The woman shall be free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Take four and twenty bucks and ewes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ten tun of the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid my love be blythe and glad,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will follow syne."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was not a groom about that castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But got a gown of green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But Lady Maiserey <a name="LNanchor_7_70" id="LNanchor_7_70"></a><a href="#Linenote_7_70" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">was wi' wean</a>.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was no cook about the kitchen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But got a gown of gray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But Lady Maiserey was wae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was all spread o'er with <a name="LNanchor_7_76" id="LNanchor_7_76"></a><a href="#Linenote_7_76" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">garl</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep the lady and her maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From tramping on the <a name="LNanchor_7_78" id="LNanchor_7_78"></a><a href="#Linenote_7_78" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">marl</a>.<!-- Page 76 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Mary Kirk to that castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was spread a cloth of gold,<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep the lady and her maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From treading on the mould.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When mass was sung, and bells were rung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all men bound for bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maiserey,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In one bed they were laid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When they were laid upon their bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was baith soft and warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He laid his hand over her side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says he, "you are with bairn."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I told you once, so did I twice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When ye came as my wooer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Childe Vyet, your one brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One night lay in my bower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I told you twice, so did I thrice,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere ye came me to wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Childe Vyet, your one brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One night lay in my bed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O will you father your bairn on me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And on no other man?<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll gie him to his dowry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full fifty ploughs of land."<!-- Page 77 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will not father my bairn on you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor on no wrongous man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' you'd gie him to his dowry,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Five thousand ploughs of land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up did start him Childe Vyet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shed by his yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave Lord Ingram to the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A deep wound and a sair.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up did start him Lord Ingram,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shed by his yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave Childe Vyet to the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A deep wound and a sair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was no pity for the two lords,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where they were lying slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All was for Lady Maiserey:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In that bower she gaed brain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was no pity for the two lords,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they were lying dead,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All was for Lady Maiserey:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In that bower she went mad!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O get to me a cloak of cloth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A staff of good hard tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I have been an evil woman,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I shall beg till I die.<!-- Page 78 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For ae bit I'll beg for Childe Vyet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For Lord Ingram I'll beg three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All for the honourable marriage, that<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At Mary Kirk he gave me!"<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_7_4" id="Linenote_7_4"></a><a href="#LNanchor_7_4" title="link to line number">4</a>. The less was their bonheur. <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_7_70" id="Linenote_7_70"></a><a href="#LNanchor_7_70" title="link to line number">70</a>, she was neen. Motherwell.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_7_76" id="Linenote_7_76"></a><a href="#LNanchor_7_76" title="link to line number">76</a>, gold.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_7_78" id="Linenote_7_78"></a><a href="#LNanchor_7_78" title="link to line number">78</a>, mould. N. C. G.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<h3><a name="LADY_MAISRY" id="LADY_MAISRY"></a>LADY MAISRY.</h3> + + +<p>This ballad, said to be very popular in Scotland, +was taken down from recitation by Jamieson, and is +extracted from his collection, vol. i. p. 73. A different +copy, from Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 234, is given in +the Appendix. Another, styled <i>Young Prince James</i>, +may be seen in Buchan's <i>Ballads</i>, vol. i. 103. <i>Bonnie +Susie Cleland</i>, Motherwell, p. 221, is still another version.</p> + +<p>In <i>Lady Maisry</i> we seem to have the English form +of a tragic story which, starting from Denmark, has +spread over almost all the north of Europe, that of +<i>King Waldemar and his Sister</i>. Grundtvig's collection +gives seven copies of the Danish ballad upon this subject +(<i>Kong Valdemar og hans Söster</i>, No. 126), the +oldest from a manuscript of the beginning of the 17th +century. Five Icelandic versions are known, one +Norse, one Faroish, five Swedish (four of them in Arwidsson, +No. 53, <i>Liten Kerstin och Fru Sofia</i>), and +several in German, as <i>Graf Hans von Holstein und +seine Schwester Annchristine</i>, Erk, <i>Liederhort</i>, p. 155;<!-- Page 79 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +<i>Der Grausame Bruder</i>, Erk, p. 153, and Hoffmann, +<i>Schlesische Volkslieder</i>, No. 27; <i>Der Grobe Bruder</i>, +<i>Wunderhorn</i>, ii. 272; <i>Der Pfalzgraf am Rhein</i>, <i>id.</i> i. +259, etc.; also a fragment in Wendish. The relationship +of the English ballad to the rest of the cycle can +perhaps be easiest shown by comparison with the simplified +and corrupted German versions.</p> + +<p>The story appears to be founded on facts which occurred +during the reign and in the family of the Danish +king, Waldemar the First, sometime between 1157 +and 1167. Waldemar is described as being, with all +his greatness, of a relentless and cruel disposition (<i>in +ira pertinax</i>; <i>in suos tantum plus justo crudelior</i>). +Tradition, however, has imputed to him a brutal ferocity +beyond belief. In the ballad before us, Lady Maisry +suffers for her weakness by being burned at the +stake, but in the Danish, Swedish, and German ballads, +the king's sister is beaten to death with leathern +whips, by her brother's own hand.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Er schlug sie so sehre, er schlug sie so lang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bis Lung und Leber aus dem Leib ihr sprang!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Icelandic and Faroe ballads have nothing of +this horrible ferocity, but contain a story which is +much nearer to probability, if not to historical truth. +While King Waldemar is absent on an expedition +against the Wends, his sister Kristín is drawn into a +<i>liaison</i> with her second-cousin, the result of which is +the birth of two children. Sofía, the Queen, maliciously +makes the state of things known to the king +the moment he returns (which is on the very day of +Kristín's lying in, according to the Danish ballad), but +he will not believe the story,—all the more because +the accused parties are within prohibited degrees of<!-- Page 80 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +consanguinity. Kristín is summoned to come instantly +to her brother, and obeys the message, though she is +weak with childbirth, and knows that the journey will +cost her her life. She goes to the court on horseback +(in the Danish ballads falling from the saddle once or +twice on the way), and on her arrival is put to various +tests to ascertain her condition, concluding with a long +dance with the king, to which, having held out for a +considerable time, she at last succumbs, and falls dead +in her brother's arms.</p> + +<p>The incidents of the journey on horseback, and the +cruel probation by the dance, are found in the ballad +which follows the present (<i>Fair Janet</i>), and these coincidences +Grundtvig considers sufficient to establish its +derivation from the Danish. The <i>general</i> similarity of +<i>Lady Maisry</i> to <i>King Waldemar and his Sister</i> is, +however, much more striking. For our part, we are +inclined to believe that <i>both</i> the English ballads had +this origin, but the difference in their actual form is so +great, that, notwithstanding this conviction, we have +not felt warranted in putting them together.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The young lords o' the north country<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have all a-wooing gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To win the love of lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But o' them she wou'd hae nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O thae hae sought her, lady Maisry,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' broaches, and wi' rings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they hae courted her, lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a' kin kind of things.<!-- Page 81 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they hae sought her, lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae father and frae mither;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they hae sought her, lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae sister and frae brither.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they hae follow'd her, lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' chamber, and through ha';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' that they could say to her,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her answer still was "Na."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongues, young men," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And think nae mair on me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I've gi'en my love to an English lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae think nae mair on me."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father's kitchey-boy heard that,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(An ill death mot he die!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is in to her brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as gang cou'd he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O is my father and my mother weel,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But and my brothers three?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin my sister lady Maisry be weel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's naething can ail me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your father and your mother is weel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But and your brothers three;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your sister, lady Maisry's, weel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae big wi' bairn is she."<!-- Page 82 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A malison light on the tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sic tidings tells to me!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gin it be a lie you tell,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">You shall be hanged hie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's doen him to his sister's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mickle dool and care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he saw her, lady Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kembing her yellow hair.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_8_41" id="LNanchor_8_41"></a><a href="#Linenote_8_41" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"O wha is aucht that bairn," he says,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That ye sae big are wi'?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gin ye winna own the truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This moment ye sall die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's turned her richt and round about,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the kembe fell frae her han';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A trembling seized her fair bodie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her rosy cheek grew wan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O pardon me, my brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth I'll tell to thee;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My bairn it is to Lord William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he is betrothed to me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cou'dna ye gotten dukes, or lords,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Intill your ain countrie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ye drew up wi' an English dog,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bring this shame on me?<!-- Page 83 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But ye maun gi'e up your English lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan your young babe is born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, gin ye keep by him an hour langer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your life shall be forlorn."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will gi'e up this English lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till my young babe be born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the never a day nor hour langer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though my life should be forlorn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare is a' my merry young men,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wham I gi'e meat and fee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pu' the bracken and the thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To burn this vile whore wi'?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare will I get a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To help me in my need,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rin wi' haste to Lord William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid him come wi' speed?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O out it spak a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood by her brother's side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I wad rin your errand, lady,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er a' the warld wide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aft ha'e I run your errands, lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When blawin baith wind and weet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I'll rin your errand, lady,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 84 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span><span class="i2">With saut tears on my cheek."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O whan he came to broken briggs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bent his bow and swam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whan he came to the green grass growin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He slack'd his shoon and ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to Lord William's yeats,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He badena to chap or ca';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But set his bent bow to his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lightly lap the wa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, or the porter was at the yeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The boy was in the ha'.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O is my biggins broken, boy?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or is my towers won?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is my lady lighter yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' a dear daughter or son?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your biggin isna broken, sir,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor is your towers won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the fairest lady in a' the land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day for you maun burn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O saddle to me the black, the black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or saddle to me the brown;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or saddle to me the swiftest steed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever rade frae a town."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or he was near a mile awa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She heard his weir-horse sneeze;<!-- Page 85 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mend up the fire, my fause brother,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's nae come to my knees."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O whan he lighted at the yeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She heard his bridle ring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mend up the fire, my fause brother;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's far yet frae my chin.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mend up the fire to me, brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mend up the fire to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I see him comin' hard and fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will soon men't up for thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin my hands had been loose, Willy,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae hard as they are boun',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wadd hae turn'd me frae the gleed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And casten out your young son."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your father and your mother;<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your sister and your brother;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The chief o' a' your kin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the last bonfire that I come to,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mysell I will cast in."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p>v. <a name="Linenote_8_41" id="Linenote_8_41"></a><a href="#LNanchor_8_41" title="link to line number">41</a>. See preface to <i>Clerk Saunders</i>, p. 319.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 86 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAIR_JANET" id="FAIR_JANET"></a>FAIR JANET.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Sharpe's <i>Ballad Book</i>, p. 1.</p> + + +<p>"This ballad, the subject of which appears to have +been very popular, is printed as it was sung by an old +woman in Perthshire. The air is extremely beautiful."</p> + +<p>Herd gave an imperfect version of this ballad under +the title of <i>Willie and Annet</i>, in his <i>Scottish Songs</i>, i. +219; repeated after him in Ritson's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, and +in Johnson's <i>Museum</i>. Finlay's copy, improved, but +made up of fragments, follows the present, and in the +Appendix is <i>Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry</i>, from Buchan's +collection. We have followed Motherwell by +inserting (in brackets) three stanzas from <i>Willie and +Annet</i> and <i>Sweet Willie</i>, which contribute slightly to +complete Sharpe's copy. None of these ballads is satisfactory, +though Sharpe's is the best. Touching the +relation of <i>Fair Janet</i> to the Danish ballad of <i>King +Waldemar and his Sister</i>, the reader will please look +at the preface to the preceding ballad.<!-- Page 87 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye maun gang to him soon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye maun gang to your father, Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In case that his days are dune!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Janet's awa' to her father,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as she could hie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O what's your will wi' me, father?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O what's your will wi' me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My will wi' you, Fair Janet," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It is both bed and board;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some say that ye lo'e Sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ye maun wed a French lord."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A French lord maun I wed, father?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A French lord maun I wed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, by my sooth," quo' Fair Janet,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"He's ne'er enter my bed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Janet's awa' to her chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as she could go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wha's the first ane that tapped there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But Sweet Willie her jo!<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O we maun part this love, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That has been lang between;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a French lord coming o'er the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wed me wi' a ring;<!-- Page 88 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There 's a French lord coming o'er the sea,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wed and tak me hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If we maun part this love, Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It causeth mickle woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we maun part this love, Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It makes me into mourning go."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But ye maun gang to your three sisters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Meg, Marion, and Jean;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell them to come to Fair Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In case that her days are dune."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Willie's awa' to his three sisters,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Meg, Marion, and Jean;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O haste, and gang to Fair Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear that her days are dune."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some drew to them their silken hose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some drew to them their shoon,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some drew to them their silk manteils,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their coverings to put on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they're awa' to Fair Janet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the hie light o' the moon.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I have born this babe, Willie,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mickle toil and pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For nurse I dare be nane."<!-- Page 89 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's tane his young son in his arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kist him cheek and chin,—<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's awa' to his mother's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the hie light o' the moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O open, open, mother," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O open, and let me in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rain rains on my yellow hair,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the dew drops o'er my chin,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hae my young son in my arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear that his days are dune."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With her fingers lang and sma'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She lifted up the pin;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with her arms lang and sma'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Received the baby in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And comfort your fair lady;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For where ye had but ae nourice,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your young son shall hae three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Willie he was scarce awa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the lady put to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in and came her father dear:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Make haste, and busk the bride."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's a sair pain in my head, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's a sair pain in my side;<!-- Page 90 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ill, O ill, am I, father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day for to be a bride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye maun busk this bonny bride,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put a gay mantle on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she shall wed this auld French lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin she should die the morn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some put on the gay green robes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some put on the brown;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Janet put on the scarlet robes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To shine foremost through the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And some they mounted the black steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some mounted the brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Janet mounted the milk-white steed,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To ride foremost through the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha will guide your horse, Janet?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O wha will guide him best?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wha but Willie, my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He kens I lo'e him best!"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when they cam to Marie's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To tye the haly ban,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her colour gaed and cam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When dinner it was past and done,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dancing to begin,<!-- Page 91 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O we'll go take the bride's maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we'll go fill the ring."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O ben than cam the auld French lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your face I downa see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He cam with ane advance:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I'll go tak the bride's maidens,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we'll go tak a dance."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so has mony mae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let a' my maidens gae."<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O ben than cam now Sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Aye, by my sooth, and that I will,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin my back should break in three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[And she's ta'en Willie by the hand,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tear blinded her e'e;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I wad dance wi' my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' bursts my heart in three!"]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna turned her throw the dance,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 92 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span><span class="i2">Throw the dance but thrice,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And up did never rise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her garter frae her knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gie that, gie that, to my young son;<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'll ne'er his mother see."]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gi'en it to his man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gae hame, and tell my mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My horse he has me slain;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid her be kind to my young son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For father he has nane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Gar deal, gar deal the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This day has seen my true love's death,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night shall witness mine."]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the tither in Marie's quire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the tane there grew a birk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the tither a bonny brier.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 93 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SWEET_WILLIE" id="SWEET_WILLIE"></a>SWEET WILLIE.</h3> + + +<p>"This ballad has had the misfortune, in common +with many others, of being much mutilated by reciters. +I have endeavoured, by the assistance of some fragments, +to make it as complete as possible; and have +even taken the liberty of altering the arrangement of +some of the stanzas of a lately-procured copy, that they +might the better cohere with those already printed." +<span class="smcap">Finlay's</span> <i>Scottish Ballads</i>, ii. 61.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will you marry the southland lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A queen o' fair England to be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will you mourn for sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morn upon yon lea?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will marry the southland lord,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Father, sen it is your will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'd rather it were my burial day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For my grave I'm going till.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O go, O go now my bower wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O go now hastilie,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O go now to sweet Willie's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid him cum speak to me.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, Willie, gif ye love me weel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As sae it seems to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gar build, gar build a bonny ship,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gar build it speedilie!<!-- Page 94 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And we will sail the sea sae green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto some far countrie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or we'll sail to some bonny isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stands lanely midst the sea."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But lang or e'er the ship was built,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or deck'd or rigged out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cam sic a pain in Annet's back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That down she cou'dna lout.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, Willie, gin ye love me weel,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As sae it seems to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O haste, haste, bring me to my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my bower maidens three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en her in his arms twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss'd her cheek and chin,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's brocht her to her ain sweet bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nae bower maid was in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now leave my bower, Willie," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Now leave me to my lane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was never man in a lady's bower<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she was travailing."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's stepped three steps down the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the marble stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae loud's he heard his young son greet,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 95 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span><span class="i2">But and his lady mane.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now come, now come, Willie," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Tak your young son frae me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hie him to your mother's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With speed and privacie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he is to his mother's bower,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could rin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Open, open, my mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Open, and let me in;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For the rain rains on my yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dew stands on my chin,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have something in my lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I wad fain be in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O go, O go now, sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make your lady blithe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wherever you had ae nourice,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your young son shall hae five."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out spak Annet's mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' she spak a word o' pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Whare is a' our bride's maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They're no busking the bride?"<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongue, my mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your speaking let it be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sae fair and full o' flesh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little busking will serve me."<!-- Page 96 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out an' spak the bride's maidens,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They spak a word o' pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Whare is a' the fine cleiding?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its we maun busk the bride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Deal hooly wi' my head, maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deal hooly wi' my hair,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it was washen late yestreen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it is wonder sair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My maidens, easy wi' my back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And easy wi' my side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O set my saddle saft, Willie,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am a tender bride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O up then spak the southland lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And blinkit wi' his ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I trow this lady's born a bairn,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then laucht loud lauchters three.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye hae gi'en me the gowk, Annet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'll gie you the scorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there's no a bell in a' the town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall ring for you the morn."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out and spak then sweet Willie,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sae loud's I hear you lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's no a bell in a' the town<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But shall ring for Annet and me."<!-- Page 97 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Willie swore a great great oath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he swore by the thorn,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she was as free o' a child that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the night that she was born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O up an' spak <a name="LNanchor_9b_93" id="LNanchor_9b_93"></a><a href="#Linenote_9b_93" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">the brisk bridegroom</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he spak up wi' pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gin I should lay my gloves in pawn,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will dance wi' the bride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now haud your tongue, <a name="LNanchor_9b_97" id="LNanchor_9b_97"></a><a href="#Linenote_9b_97" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">my lord," she said</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Wi' dancing let me be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am sae thin in flesh and blude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sma' dancing will serve me."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But she's ta'en Willie by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tear blinded her ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But I wad dance wi' my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But bursts my heart in three."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her garter frae her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gie that, gie that, to my young son;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'll ne'er his mother see."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_9b_93" id="Linenote_9b_93"></a><a href="#LNanchor_9b_93" title="link to line number">93</a>. <i>Sic</i> Herd. Finlay, then sweet Willie.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_9b_97" id="Linenote_9b_97"></a><a href="#LNanchor_9b_97" title="link to line number">97</a>. <i>Sic</i> Herd. Finlay, Willie, she said.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 98 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAIR_ANNIE_OF_LOCHROYAN" id="FAIR_ANNIE_OF_LOCHROYAN"></a>FAIR ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN.</h3> + + +<p>Of this beautiful piece a complete copy was first +published by Scott, another afterwards by Jamieson. +Both are here given, the latter, as in some respects +preferable, having the precedence. The ballad is found +almost entire in Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, i. 206, a short +fragment in Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, p. 5, and a more considerable +one, called <i>Love Gregory</i>, in Buchan's collection, +ii. 199. This last has been unnecessarily repeated +in a very indifferent publication of the Percy +Society, vol. xvii. Dr. Wolcot, Burns, and Jamieson +have written songs on the story of Fair Annie, and +Cunningham has modernized Sir Walter Scott's +version, after his fashion, in the <i>Songs of Scotland</i>, +i. 298.</p> + +<p>Of his text, Jamieson remarks, "it is given <i>verbatim</i> +from the large MS. collection, transmitted from Aberdeen, +by my zealous and industrious friend, Professor +Robert Scott of that university. I have every reason +to believe, that no liberty whatever has been taken +with the text, which is certainly more uniform than<!-- Page 99 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +any copy heretofore published. It was first written +down many years ago, with no view towards being +committed to the press; and is now given from the +copy then taken, with the addition only of stanzas +twenty-two and twenty-three, which the editor has inserted +from memory." <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 36.</p> + +<p>"Lochryan is a beautiful, though somewhat wild and +secluded bay, which projects from the Irish Channel +into Wigtonshire, having the little seaport of Stranraer +situated at its bottom. Along its coast, which is +in some places high and rocky, there are many ruins +of such castles as that described in the ballad." <span class="smcap">Chambers.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha will shoe my fair foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wha will glove my han'?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha will lace my middle jimp<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a new-made London ban'?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Or wha will kemb my yellow hair<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a new-made silver kemb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wha'll be father to my young bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till love Gregor come hame?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your father'll shoe your fair foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your mother glove your han';<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your sister lace your middle jimp<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a new-made London ban';<!-- Page 100 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your brethren will kemb your yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a new-made silver kemb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the king o' Heaven will father your bairn,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till love Gregor come hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin I had a bonny ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And men to sail wi' me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's I wad gang to my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin he winna come to me!"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father's gien her a bonny ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sent her to the stran';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's taen her young son in her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And turn'd her back to the lan'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna been o' the sea sailin'<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">About a month or more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till landed has she her bonny ship<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Near her true-love's door.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nicht was dark, and the wind blew cald,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her love was fast asleep,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bairn that was in her twa arms<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fu' sair began to greet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lang stood she at her true love's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lang tirl'd at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length up gat his fause mother,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Wha's that wad be in?"<!-- Page 101 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O it is Annie of Lochroyan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your love, come o'er the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But and your young son in her arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So open the door to me."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awa, awa, ye ill woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're nae come here for gude;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're but a witch, or a vile warlock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or mermaid o' the flude."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'm nae a witch or vile warlock,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or mermaiden," said she;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'm but your Annie of Lochroyan;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O open the door to me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I trust not ye be,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What taiken can ye gie that e'er<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I kept your companie?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Whan we sat at the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How we changed the napkins frae our necks?<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's nae sae lang sinsyne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And yours was gude, and gude enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nae sae gude as mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yours was o' the cambrick clear,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 102 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span><span class="i2">But mine o' the silk sae fine.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"As we twa sat at dine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How we chang'd the rings frae our fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I can shew thee thine:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And yours was gude, and gude enough,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet nae sae gude as mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yours was o' the gude red gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But mine o' the diamonds fine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sae open the door, now, love Gregor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And open it wi' speed;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or your young son, that is in my arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For cald will soon be dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awa, awa, ye ill woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gae frae my door for shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I hae gotten anither fair love,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae ye may hie you hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hae ye gotten anither fair love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' the oaths ye sware?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fare ye weel, now, fause Gregor;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For me ye's never see mair!"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O hooly, hooly gaed she back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the day began to peep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She set her foot on good ship board,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sair, sair did she weep.<!-- Page 103 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak down, tak down the mast o' goud;<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set up the mast o' tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ill sets it a forsaken lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail sae gallantlie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak down, tak down the sails o' silk;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set up the sails o' skin;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ill sets the outside to be gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan there's sic grief within!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love Gregor started frae his sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to his mother did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I dreamt a dream this night, mither,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That maks my heart richt wae;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dreamt that Annie of Lochroyan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flower o' a' her kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was standin' mournin' at my door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But nane wad lat her in."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O there was a woman stood at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a bairn intill her arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I wadna let her within the bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For fear she had done you harm."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O quickly, quickly raise he up,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fast ran to the strand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he saw her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was sailing frae the land.<!-- Page 104 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, Annie, winna ye bide?"<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ay the louder that he cried "Annie,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The higher rair'd the tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, Annie, speak to me!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ay the louder that he cried "Annie,"<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The louder rair'd the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind grew loud, and the sea grew rough,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the ship was rent in twain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon he saw her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come floating o'er the main.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saw his young son in her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Baith toss'd aboon the tide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wrang his hands, and fast he ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And plunged in the sea sae wide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He catch'd her by the yellow hair,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drew her to the strand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cald and stiff was every limb,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before he reach'd the land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O first he kist her cherry cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne he kist her chin;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sair he kist her ruby lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But there was nae breath within.<!-- Page 105 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he has mourn'd o'er fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the sun was ganging down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Syne wi' a sich his heart it brast,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his saul to heaven has flown.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 106 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_LASS_OF_LOCHROYAN" id="THE_LASS_OF_LOCHROYAN"></a>THE LASS OF LOCHROYAN.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 199.</p> + + +<p>"This edition of the ballad is composed of verses +selected from three MS. copies, and two obtained from +recitation. Two of the copies are in Herd's MS.; the +third in that of Mrs. Brown of Falkland."</p> + +<p>Lord Gregory is represented in Scott's version, "as +confined by fairy charms in an enchanted castle situated +in the sea." But Jamieson assures us that when +a boy he had frequently heard this ballad chanted +in Morayshire, and no mention was ever made of enchantment, +or "fairy charms." "Indeed," he very +justly adds, "the two stanzas on that subject [v. 41-52,] +are in a style of composition very peculiar, and +different from the rest of the piece, and strongly remind +us of the interpolations in the ballad of <i>Gil Morris</i>."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><!-- Page 107 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"O wha will shoe my bonny foot?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wha will glove my hand?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha will lace my middle jimp<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a lang, lang linen band?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha will kame my yellow hair,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a new-made silver kame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha will father my young son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Lord Gregory come hame?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy father will shoe thy bonny foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy mother will glove thy hand,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sister will lace thy middle jimp,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Lord Gregory come to land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy brother will kame thy yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a new-made silver kame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God will be thy bairn's father<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Lord Gregory come hame."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I will get a bonny boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will sail the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will gang to Lord Gregory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since he canna come hame to me."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Syne she's gar'd build a bonny boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail the salt, salt sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sails were o' the light green silk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tows o' taffety.<!-- Page 108 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna sailed but twenty leagues,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But twenty leagues and three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she met wi' a rank robber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' his company.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now whether are ye the queen hersell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(For so ye weel might be,)<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or are ye the Lass of Lochroyan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seekin' Lord Gregory?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I am neither the queen," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor sic I seem to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I am the Lass of Lochroyan,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seekin' Lord Gregory."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O see na thou yon bonny bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's a' cover'd o'er wi' tin?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thou hast sail'd it round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Gregory is within."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when she saw the stately tower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shining sae clear and bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Built on a rock of height;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says—"Row the boat, my mariners,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bring me to the land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yonder I see my love's castle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Close by the salt-sea strand."<!-- Page 109 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sail'd it round, and sail'd it round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And loud, loud cried she—<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now break, now break, ye fairy charms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set my true love free!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her young son in her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to the door she's gane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long she knock'd, and sair she ca'd,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But answer got she nane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O open the door, Lord Gregory!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O open and let me in!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the wind blaws through my yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the rain draps o'er my chin."—<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awa, awa, ye ill woman!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye're no come here for good!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye're but some witch or wil warlock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or mermaid o' the flood."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I am neither witch, nor wil warlock,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor mermaid o' the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I am Annie of Lochroyan;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O open the door to me!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin thou be Annie of Lochroyan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(As I trow thou binna she,)<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now tell me some o' the love tokens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That past between thee and me."<!-- Page 110 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As we sat at the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We changed the rings frae our fingers?<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I can show thee thine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O yours was gude, and gude enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But aye the best was mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yours was o' the gude red gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But mine o' the diamond fine.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And has na thou mind, Lord Gregory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As we sat on the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou twin'd me o' my maidenheid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right sair against my will?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now open the door, Lord Gregory!<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Open the door, I pray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thy young son is in my arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And will be dead ere day."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If thou be the lass of Lochroyan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(As I kenna thou be,)<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me some mair o' the love tokens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Past between me and thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie turn'd her round about—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Weel! since that it be sae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May never a woman that has borne a son,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hae a heart sae fou o' wae!<!-- Page 111 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Take down, take down, that mast o' gowd!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set up a mast o' tree!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It disna become a forsaken lady<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sail sae royallie."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the sun began to peep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then up and raise him Lord Gregory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sair, sair did he weep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh I hae dream'd a dream, mother,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish it may prove true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the bonny Lass of Lochroyan<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was at the yate e'en now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I hae dream'd a dream, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thought o't gars me greet!<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fair Annie o' Lochroyan<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay cauld dead at my feet."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye make a' this din,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stood a' last night at your door,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I true she wan na in."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae betide ye, ill woman!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill deid may ye die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wadna open the door to her,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 112 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span><span class="i2">Nor yet wad waken me."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he's gane down to yon shore side<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw fair Annie in the boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the wind it toss'd her sair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And hey, Annie, and how, Annie!<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Annie, winna ye bide!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But aye the mair he cried Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The braider grew the tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And hey, Annie, and how, Annie!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dear Annie, speak to me!"<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But aye the louder he cried Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The louder roar'd the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dash'd the boat on shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie floated through the faem,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the babie rose no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And made a heavy moan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her bonny young son was gone.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O cherry, cherry was her cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gowden was her hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But clay-cold were her rosy lips—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae spark o' life was there.<!-- Page 113 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And first he kiss'd her cherry cheek,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne he kiss'd her chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And syne he kiss'd her rosy lips—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was nae breath within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae betide my cruel mother!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill death may she die!<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She turn'd my true love frae my door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha came sae far to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae betide my cruel mother!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill death may she die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She turn'd fair Annie frae my door,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha died for love o' me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 114 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_DOUGLAS_TRAGEDY" id="THE_DOUGLAS_TRAGEDY"></a>THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 3.</p> + + +<p>This ballad, of which more than thirty versions have +been published in the Northern languages, is preserved +in English in several forms, all of them more or less +unsatisfactory. Of these the present copy comes nearest +to the pure original, as it is found in Danish. The next +best is <i>The Brave Earl Brand and The King of England's +Daughter</i>, recently printed for the first time in +Bell's <i>Ballads of the Peasantry</i>, and given <a href="#THE_BRAVE_EARL_BRAND_AND_THE_KING">at the end +of this volume</a>. <i>Erlinton</i> (vol. iii. 220) is much mutilated, +and has a perverted conclusion, but retains a +faint trace of one characteristic trait of the ancient +ballad, which really constitutes the turning point of +the story, but which all the others lack. (See <i>Erlinton</i>.) +A fragment exists in the Percy MS., of which +we can only say that if it much resembled Percy's +<i>Child of Elle</i> (which it cannot), it might without +loss be left undisturbed forever. In the only remaining +copy Robin Hood appears as the hero. (See vol. +v. p. 334.) It is of slight value, but considerably less +insipid than the <i>Child of Elle</i>. Motherwell (<i>Minstrelsy</i>, +p. 180) has given a few variations to Scott's ballad, +but they are of no importance.—Of the corresponding +Danish ballad, <i>Ribolt og Guldborg</i>, Grundtvig has collected +more than twenty versions, some of them ancient, +many obtained from recitation, and eight of the<!-- Page 115 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +kindred <i>Hildebrand og Hilde</i>. There have also been +printed of the latter, three versions in Swedish, and +of the former, three in Icelandic, two in Norse, and +seven in Swedish. (<i>Danmarks Gamle Folkeviser</i>, ii. +308-403, 674-81.) Jamieson has translated an inferior +copy of the Danish ballad in <i>Illustrations of +North. Antiq.</i>, p. 317.</p> + +<p>"The ballad of <i>The Douglas Tragedy</i>," says Scott, +"is one of the few (?) to which popular tradition has +ascribed complete locality.</p> + +<p>"The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is said to +have been the scene of this melancholy event. There +are the remains of a very ancient tower, adjacent to +the farm-house, in a wild and solitary glen, upon a +torrent named Douglas burn, which joins the Yarrow, +after passing a craggy rock, called the Douglas craig.... +From this ancient tower Lady Margaret is said to +have been carried by her lover. Seven large stones, +erected upon the neighboring heights of Blackhouse, +are shown, as marking the spot where the seven brethren +were slain; and the Douglas burn is averred to +have been the stream at which the lovers stopped to +drink: so minute is tradition in ascertaining the scene +of a tragical tale, which, considering the rude state of +former times, had probably foundation in some real +event."</p> + +<p>Were it not for Scott's concluding remark, and the +obstinate credulity of most of the English and Scotch +editors, we should hardly think it necessary to say that +the locality of some of the incidents in <i>Ribolt and +Guldborg</i>, is equally well ascertained (Grundtvig, 342, +343). "Popular tales and anecdotes of every kind," as +Jamieson well remarks, "soon obtain locality wherever +they are told; and the intelligent and attentive<!-- Page 116 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +traveller will not be surprised to find the same story +which he had learnt when a child, with every appropriate +circumstance of names, time, and place, in a +Glen of Morven, Lochaber, or Rannoch, equally domesticated +among the mountains of Norway, Caucasus, +or Thibet." <i>Ill. North. Ant.</i> p. 317.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And put on your armour so bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it never be said that a daughter of thine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was married to a lord under night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put on your armour so bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take better care of your youngest sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For your eldest's awa' the last night."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And himself on a dapple grey,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lightly they rode away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see what he could see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come riding o'er the lee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Light down, light down, Lady Marg'ret," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And hold my steed in your hand,<!-- Page 117 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until that against your seven brethren bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your father, I make a stand."—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She held his steed in her milk-white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never shed one tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until that she saw her seven brethren fa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her father hard fighting, who loved her so dear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hold your hand, Lord William!" she said,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For your strokes they are wondrous sair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True lovers I can get many a ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But a father I can never get mair."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O she's ta'en out her handkerchief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was o' the holland sae fine,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye she dighted her father's bloody wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That were redder than the wine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O chuse, O chuse, Lady Marg'ret," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O whether will ye gang or bide?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William," she said,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For you have left me no other guide."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's lifted her on a milk-white steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And himself on a dapple grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 118 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span><span class="i2">And slowly they baith rade away.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O they rade on, and on they rade,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' by the light of the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they came to yon wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there they lighted down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They lighted down to tak a drink<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the spring that ran sae clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sair she 'gan to fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hold up, hold up, Lord William," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For I fear that you are slain!"—<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Tis naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shines in the water sae plain."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O they rade on, and on they rade,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' by the light of the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they cam to his mother's ha' door,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there they lighted down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Get up, get up, lady mother," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Get up, and let me in!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get up, get up, lady mother," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For this night my fair lady I've win.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mak my bed, lady mother," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O mak it braid and deep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lay Lady Marg'ret close at my back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the sounder I will sleep."<!-- Page 119 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord William was dead lang ere midnight,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady Marg'ret lang ere day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all true lovers that go thegither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May they have mair luck than they!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_11_69" id="LNanchor_11_69"></a><a href="#Linenote_11_69" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Lord William was buried in St. Marie's kirk</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady Marg'ret in Marie's quire;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out o' the knight's a brier.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they twa met, and they twa plat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fain they wad be near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' the warld might ken right weel,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were twa lovers dear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But bye and rade the Black Douglas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wow but he was rough!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he pull'd up the bonny brier,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And flang't in St. Marie's Loch.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_11_69" id="Linenote_11_69"></a> +<a href="#LNanchor_11_69" title="link to line number">69-80</a>. +This miracle is frequently witnessed over the +graves of faithful lovers.—King Mark, according to the German +romance, planted a rose on Tristan's grave, and a vine +on that of Isold. The roots struck down into the very +hearts of the dead lovers, and the stems twined lovingly together. +The French account is somewhat different. An +eglantine sprung from the tomb of Tristan, and twisted itself +round the monument of Isold. It was cut down three times, +but grew up every morning fresher than before, so that it +was allowed to stand. Other examples are, in this volume,<!-- Page 120 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +<i>Fair Janet</i>, <i>Lord Thomas and Fair Annet</i>; in the third volume, +<i>Prince Robert</i>, &c. The same phenomenon is exhibited +in the Swedish ballads of <i>Hertig Fröjdenborg och Fröken +Adelin</i>, <i>Lilla Rosa</i>, <i>Hilla Lilla</i>, <i>Hertig Nils</i>, (<i>Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, +i. 95, 116, Arwidsson, ii. 8, 21, 24,) in the Danish ballad of +<i>Herr Sallemand</i>, (<i>Danske Viser</i>, iii. 348,) in the Breton ballad +of <i>Lord Nann and the Korrigan</i>, translated in Keightley's +<i>Fairy Mythology</i>, p. 433, in a Servian tale cited by Talvi, <i>Versuch</i>, +&c., p. 139, and in the Afghan poem of <i>Audam and Doorkhaunee</i>, +described by Elphinstone, <i>Account of the Kingdom of +Caubul</i>, i. 295,—which last reference we owe to Talvi.—In +the case of the Danish ballad it is certain, and in some of the +other cases probable, that the idea was derived from the romance +of <i>Tristan</i>.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 121 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_THOMAS_AND_FAIR_ELLINOR" id="LORD_THOMAS_AND_FAIR_ELLINOR"></a>LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR.</h3> + + +<p>The four pieces which follow have all the same subject. +<i>Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor</i>, is given from +the <i>Collection of Old Ballads</i>, 1723, vol. i. p. 249, +where it is entitled, <i>A Tragical Ballad on the unfortunate +Love of Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor, together +with the Downfal of the Brown Girl</i>. The text differs +but slightly from that of Percy, (iii. 121,) and Ritson, +<i>Ancient Songs</i>, ii. 89.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a chaser of the king's deer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Ellinor was a fine woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Lord Thomas he loved her dear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," he said,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And riddle us both as one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether I shall marry with fair Ellinor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let the brown girl alone?"<!-- Page 122 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The brown girl she has got houses and land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fair Ellinor she has got none;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore I charge you on my blessing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring me the brown girl home."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As it befell on a high holiday,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As many more did beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas he went to fair Ellinor,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That should have been his bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when he came to fair Ellinors bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He knocked there at the ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who was so ready as fair Ellinor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to let Lord Thomas in.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What news, what news, Lord Thomas?" she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What news hast thou brought unto me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I am come to bid thee to my wedding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that is bad news for thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O God forbid, Lord Thomas," she said,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That such a thing should be done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought to have been thy bride my own self,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you to have been the bridegrom."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," she said,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 123 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><span class="i2">"And riddle it all in one;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or whether I shall tarry at home?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There are many that are your friends, daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And many that are your foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore I charge you on my blessing,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's many that are my friends, mother;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And if a thousand more were my foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betide my life, betide my death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Lord Thomas's wedding I'll go."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She cloathed herself in gallant attire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her merry men all in green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as they rid through every town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They took her to be some queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She knocked there at the ring;<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who was so ready as Lord Thomas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To let fair Ellinor in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is this your bride?" fair Ellinor said;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Methinks she looks wonderful brown;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou might'st have had as fair a woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever trod on the ground."<!-- Page 124 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Despise her not, fair Ellin," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Despise her not unto me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For better I love thy little finger,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than all her whole body."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This brown bride had a little penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was both long and sharp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And betwixt the short ribs and the long,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Prick'd fair Ellinor to the heart.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Christ now save thee," Lord Thomas he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou us'd to look with as fresh a colour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever the sun shin'd on."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O art thou blind, Lord Thomas?" she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or canst thou not very well see?<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dost thou not see my own heart's blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Run trickling down my knee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he walk'd about the hall,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And threw it against the wall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set the hilt against the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the point against his heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There never were three lovers met,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That sooner did depart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 125 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_THOMAS_AND_FAIR_ANNET" id="LORD_THOMAS_AND_FAIR_ANNET"></a>LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET.</h3> + + +<p>From Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 290, where it was "given, +with some corrections, from a MS. copy transmitted +from Scotland." There is a corresponding Swedish +Ballad, <i>Herr Peder och Liten Kerstin</i>, in the <i>Svenska +Folk-Visor</i>, i. 49. It is translated in <i>Literature and +Romance of Northern Europe</i>, by William and Mary +Howitt, i. 258.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas and fair Annet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sate a' day on a hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan night was cum, and sun was sett,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They had not talkt their fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas said a word in jest,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annet took it ill:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A' I will nevir wed a wife<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against my ain friends will."<!-- Page 126 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A wife wull neir wed yee:"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae he is hame to tell his mither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knelt upon his knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O rede, O rede, mither," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"A gude rede gie to mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sall I tak the nut-browne bride,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let faire Annet bee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annet she has gat nane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the little beauty fair Annet has,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O it wull soon be gane."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has till his brother gane:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Now, brother, rede ye mee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A', sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let fair Annet bee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The nut-browne bride has kye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cast fair Annet bye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Her oxen may dye i' the house, billie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her kye into the byre,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I sall hae nothing to mysell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bot a fat fadge by the fyre."<!-- Page 127 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has till his sister gane:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Now sister, rede ye mee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set fair Annet free?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ise rede ye tak fair Annet, Thomas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let the browne bride alane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What is this we brought hame!"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No, I will tak my mithers counsel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And marrie me owt o' hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will tak the nut-browne bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annet may leive the land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then rose fair Annets father,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twa hours or it wer day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is gane into the bower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein fair Annet lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, fair Annet," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Put on your silken sheene;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us gae to St. Maries kirke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see that rich weddeen."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My maides, gae to my dressing-roome,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dress to me my hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whair-eir yee laid a plait before,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">See yee lay ten times mair.<!-- Page 128 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My maids, gae to my dressing-room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dress to me my smock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one half is o' the holland fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other o' needle-work."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The horse fair Annet rade upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He amblit like the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' siller he was shod before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' burning gowd behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four and twanty siller bells<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wer a' tyed till his mane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yae tift o' the norland wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They tinkled ane by ane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four and twanty gay gude knichts<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rade by fair Annets side,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And four and twanty fair ladies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As gin she had bin a bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan she cam to Maries kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She sat on Maries stean:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cleading that fair Annet had on<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It skinkled in their een.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan she cam into the kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She shimmer'd like the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The belt that was about her waist,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 129 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span><span class="i2">Was a' wi' pearles bedone.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sat her by the nut-browne bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her een they wer sae clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan fair Annet she drew near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had a rose into his hand,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he gave it kisses three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reaching by the nut-browne bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid it on fair Annets knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up than spak the nut-browne bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She spak wi' meikle spite;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And whair gat ye that rose-water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That does mak yee sae white?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I did get the rose-water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whair ye wull neir get nane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I did get that very rose-water<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into my mithers wame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bride she drew a long bodkin<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae out her gay head-gear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strake fair Annet unto the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That word she nevir spak mair.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And marvelit what mote bee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whan he saw her dear hearts blude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A' wood-wroth wexed hee.<!-- Page 130 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was sae sharp and meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drave into the nut-browne bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That fell deid at his feit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now stay for me, dear Annet," he sed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Now stay, my dear," he cry'd;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then strake the dagger untill his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fell deid by her side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Annet within the quiere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o' the tane thair grew a birk,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The other a bonny briere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ay they grew, and ay they threw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they wad faine be neare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by this ye may ken right weil,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They were twa luvers deare.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 131 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SWEET_WILLIE_AND_FAIR_ANNIE" id="SWEET_WILLIE_AND_FAIR_ANNIE"></a>SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR ANNIE</h3> + + +<p>Is another version of the foregoing piece, furnished +by Jamieson, <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 22.</p> + +<p>"The text of <i>Lord Thomas and Fair Annet</i>," remarks +Jamieson, "seems to have been adjusted, previous +to its leaving Scotland, by some one who was +more of a scholar than the reciters of ballads generally +are; and, in attempting to give it an antique cast, it +has been deprived of somewhat of that easy facility +which is the distinguished characteristic of the traditionary +ballad narrative. With the text of the following +ditty, no such experiment has been made. It is +here given pure and entire, as it was taken down by +the editor, from the recitation of a lady in Aberbrothick, +(Mrs. W. Arrot.) As she had, when a child, +learnt the ballad from an elderly maid-servant, and +probably had not repeated it for a dozen years before +I had the good fortune to be introduced to her, it may +be depended upon, that every line was recited to me +as nearly as possible in the exact form in which she +learnt it."<!-- Page 132 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Chambers, in conformity with the plan of his +work, presents us with an edition composed out of Percy's +and Jamieson's, with some amended readings and +additional verses from a manuscript copy, (<i>Scottish +Ballads</i>, p. 269.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet Willie and fair Annie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat a' day on a hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though they had sitten seven year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They ne'er wad had their fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet Willie said a word in haste,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Annie took it ill:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I winna wed a tocherless maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against my parent's will."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye're come o' the rich, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I'm come o' the poor;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm o'er laigh to be your bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I winna be your whore."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Annie she's gane till her bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Willie down the den;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's come till his mither's bower,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the lei light o' the moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?" he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or are ye the bower within?"<!-- Page 133 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_12c_19" id="LNanchor_12c_19"></a><a href="#Linenote_12c_19" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"I sleep richt aft, I wake richt aft;</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">What want ye wi' me, son?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whare hae ye been a' night, Willie?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O wow! ye've tarried lang!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have been courtin' fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she is frae me gane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is twa maidens in a bower;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which o' them sall I bring hame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fair Annie has nane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's an ye wed the nut-brown maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll heap gold wi' my hand;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But an ye wed her, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll straik it wi' a wand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fair Annie has nane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Willie, for my benison,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The nut-brown maid bring hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I sall wed the nut-brown maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I sall bring her hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But peace nor rest between us twa,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 134 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span><span class="i2">Till death sinder's again.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But, alas, alas!" says sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O fair is Annie's face!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But what's the matter, my son Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She has nae ither grace."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas, alas!" says sweet Willie,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"But white is Annie's hand!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But what's the matter, my son Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She hasna a fur o' land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sheep will die in cots, mither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And owsen die in byre;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what's this warld's wealth to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An I get na my heart's desire?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whare will I get a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wad fain win hose and shoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That will rin to fair Annie's bower,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the lei light o' the moon?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morn at twal at noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin',<br /></span> +<!-- Page 135 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span><span class="i2">The heir o' <a name="LNanchor_12c_60" id="LNanchor_12c_60"></a><a href="#Linenote_12c_60" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Duplin town</a>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She manna put on the black, the black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet the dowie brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her bonny locks hangin' down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He is on to Annie's bower,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha was sae ready as Annie hersel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To open and let him in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morn at twal at noon;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heir of Duplin town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye manna put on the black, the black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet the dowie brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your bonny locks hangin' down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Its I will come to Willie's weddin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morn at twal at noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its I will come to Willie's weddin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I rather the mass had been mine.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Maidens, to my bower come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay gold on my hair;<!-- Page 136 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whare ye laid ae plait before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll now lay ten times mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Taylors, to my bower come,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And mak to me a weed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smiths unto my stable come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shoe to me a steed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At every tate o' Annie's horse' mane<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There hang a silver bell;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there came a wind out frae the south,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which made them a' to knell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan she came to Mary-kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sat down in the deas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light, that came frae fair Annie,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Enlighten'd a' the place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But up and stands the nut-brown bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just at her father's knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wha is this, my father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That blinks in Willie's e'e?"<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O this is Willie's first true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before he loved thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If that be Willie's first true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He might ha'e latten me be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has as much gold on ae finger,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I'll wear till I die.<!-- Page 137 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare got ye that water, Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That washes you sae white?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I got it in my mither's wambe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare ye'll ne'er get the like.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For ye've been wash'd in Dunny's well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dried on Dunny's dyke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' the water in the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will never wash ye white."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Willie's ta'en a rose out o' his hat,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid it in Annie's lap;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"[The bonniest to the bonniest fa's,]<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hae, wear it for my sake."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak up and wear your rose, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wear't wi' mickle care,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the woman sall never bear a son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will mak my heart sae sair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan night was come, and day was gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' man boun to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet Willie and the nut-brown bride<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In their chamber were laid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They werena weel lyen down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And scarcely fa'n asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan up and stands she, fair Annie,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 138 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span><span class="i2">Just up at Willie's feet.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Weel brook ye o' your brown brown bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between ye and the wa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sae will I o' my winding sheet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That suits me best ava.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Weel brook ye o' your brown brown bride,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between ye and the stock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sae will I o' my black black kist,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That has neither key nor lock."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sad Willie raise, put on his claise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drew till him his hose and shoon,<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is on to Annie's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the lei light o' the moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The firsten bower that he came till,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was right dowie wark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her mither and her three sisters<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were makin' to Annie a sark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nexten bower that he came till,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was right dowie cheir;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her father and her seven brethren<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were makin' to Annie a bier.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lasten bower, that he came till,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">[O heavy was his care!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waxen lights were burning bright,]<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fair Annie streekit there.<!-- Page 139 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's lifted up the coverlet,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">[Where she, fair Annie, lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet was her smile, but wan her cheek;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O wan, and cald as clay!]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's I will kiss your bonny cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will kiss your chin;<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will kiss your clay-cald lip;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'll never kiss woman again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The day ye deal at Annie's burial<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bread but and the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the morn at twall o'clock,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'll deal the same at mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tane was buried in Mary's kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tither in Mary's quire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out o' the tane there grew a birk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out o' the tither a brier.<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ay they grew, and ay they drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Untill they twa did meet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every ane that past them by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said, "Thae's been lovers sweet!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_12c_19" id="Linenote_12c_19"></a><a href="#LNanchor_12c_19" title="link to line number">19</a>. That is, my slumbers are short, broken, and interrupted. J.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_12c_60" id="Linenote_12c_60"></a><a href="#LNanchor_12c_60" title="link to line number">60</a>. <i>Duplin town.</i> Duplin is the seat of the earl of Kinnoul, +from which he derives his title of viscount. It is in the +neighborhood of Perth. It is observable, that ballads are +very frequently adapted to the meridian of the place where +they are found. J.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 140 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAIR_MARGARET_AND_SWEET_WILLIAM" id="FAIR_MARGARET_AND_SWEET_WILLIAM"></a>FAIR MARGARET AND SWEET WILLIAM.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 164.</p> + + +<p>"This seems to be the old song quoted in Fletcher's +<i>Knight of the Burning Pestle</i>, acts ii. and iii.; +although the six lines there preserved are somewhat +different from those in the ballad, as it stands at present. +The reader will not wonder at this, when he is +informed that this is only given from a modern printed +copy picked up on a stall. Its full title is <i>Fair Margaret's +misfortunes; or Sweet William's frightful dreams +on his wedding night, with the sudden death and burial +of those noble lovers</i>.</p> + +<p>"The lines preserved in the play are this distich:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You are no love for me, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am no love for you."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">Act iii. 5.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And the following stanza:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When it was grown to dark midnight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all were fast asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In came Margarets grimly ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood at Williams feet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">Act ii. 8.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"These lines have acquired an importance by giving +birth to one of the most beautiful ballads in our +own or any other language: [Mallet's <i>Margaret's +Ghost</i>.]</p> + +<p>"Since the first edition, some improvements have +been inserted, which were communicated by a lady of<!-- Page 141 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +the first distinction, as she had heard this song repeated +in her infancy."</p> + +<p>The variations in Herd's copy, (i. 145,) and in Ritson's +(<i>Ancient Songs</i>, ii. 92,) are unimportant.</p> + +<p>In the main the same is the widely known ballad, +<i>Der Ritter und das Mägdlein</i>, Erk, p. 81, Hoffmann's +<i>Schlesische Volkslieder</i>, p. 9; <i>Herr Malmstens Dröm, +Svenska Folkvisor</i>, iii. 104, Arwidsson, ii. 21; <i>Volkslieder +der Wenden</i>, by Haupt and Schmaler, i. 159-162 +(Hoffmann); in Dutch, with a different close, +Hoffmann's <i>Niederländische Volkslieder</i>, p. 61: also +<i>Lord Lovel</i>, <i>post</i>, p. 162.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As it fell out on a long summer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Two lovers they sat on a hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sat together that long summer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And could not talk their fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I see no harm by you, Margaret,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you see none by mee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rich wedding you shall see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Combing her yellow hair;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There she spyed sweet William and his bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they were a riding near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then down she layd her ivory combe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And braided her hair in twain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She went alive out of her bower,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ne'er came alive in't again.<!-- Page 142 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When day was gone, and night was come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all men fast asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then came the spirit of fair Marg'ret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And stood at Williams feet.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_12d_21" id="LNanchor_12d_21"></a><a href="#Linenote_12d_21" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"Are you awake, sweet William?" shee said,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or, sweet William, are you asleep?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And me of my winding-sheet."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When day was come, and night 'twas gone,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all men wak'd from sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet William to his lady sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My dear, I have cause to weep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such dreames are never good:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dreamt my bower was full of red swine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my bride-bed full of blood."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They never do prove good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dream thy bower was full of red swine,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thy bride-bed full of blood."<!-- Page 143 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He called up his merry men all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By one, by two, and by three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, "I'll away to fair Marg'ret's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the leave of my ladie."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He knocked at the ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who so ready as her seven brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To let sweet William in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he turned up the covering-sheet;<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Pray let me see the dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks she looks all pale and wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She hath lost her cherry red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll do more for thee, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than any of thy kin:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I will kiss thy pale wan lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though a smile I cannot win."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that bespake the seven brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Making most piteous mone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You may go kiss your jolly brown bride,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let our sister alone."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I do kiss my jolly brown bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I do but what is right;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I neer made a vow to yonder poor corpse,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 144 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span><span class="i2">By day, nor yet by night.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_12d_62" id="LNanchor_12d_62"></a><a href="#Linenote_12d_62" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Deal on your cake and your wine:</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet William dyed the morrow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet William dyed for sorrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Margaret was buryed in the lower chancel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And William in the higher:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of her brest there sprang a rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out of his a briar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They grew till they grew unto the church top,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then they could grow no higher;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there they tyed in a true lovers knot,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which made all the people admire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then came the clerk of the parish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As you the truth shall hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by misfortune cut them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or they had now been there.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_12d_21" id="Linenote_12d_21"></a><a href="#LNanchor_12d_21" title="link to line number">21-24</a>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God give you joy, you lovers true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bride-bed fast asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! I am going to my green-grass grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I'm in my winding sheet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;"><span class="smcap">Herd's</span> copy.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_12d_62" id="Linenote_12d_62"></a><a href="#LNanchor_12d_62" title="link to line number">62</a>. Alluding to the dole anciently given at funerals. P.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 145 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SWEET_WILLIAMS_GHOST" id="SWEET_WILLIAMS_GHOST"></a>SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST</h3> + + +<p>As already remarked, is often made the sequel to +other ballads. (See <i><a href="#CLERK_SAUNDERS">Clerk Saunders</a></i>, p. 45.) It was +first printed in the fourth volume of Ramsay's <i>Tea +Table Miscellany</i>, with some imperfections, and with +two spurious stanzas for a conclusion. We subjoin +to Ramsay's copy the admirable version obtained by +Motherwell from recitation, and still another variation +furnished by Kinloch.</p> + +<p>Closely similar in many respects are the Danish +<i>Fæstemanden i Graven (Aage og Else)</i>, Grundtvig, +No. 90, and the Swedish <i>Sorgens Magt</i>, <i>Svenska F. V.</i>, +i. 29, ii. 204, or Arwidsson, ii. 103. Also <i>Der Todte +Freier</i>, Erk's <i>Liederhort</i>, 24, 24 a. In the Danish and +Swedish ballads it is the uncontrolled grief of his mistress +that calls the lover from his grave: in the English, +the desire to be freed from his troth-plight.—See +vol. i. p. 213, 217.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There came a ghost to Margaret's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With many a grievous groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ay he tirled at the pin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But answer made she none.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is that my father Philip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or is't my brother John?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is't my true love Willy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From Scotland new come home?"<!-- Page 146 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tis not thy father Philip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet thy brother John;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But 'tis thy true love Willy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From Scotland new come home.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sweet Margaret! O dear Margaret!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee speak to mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my faith and troth, Margaret,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I gave it to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy faith and troth thou's never get,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet will I thee lend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till that thou come within my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss my cheek and chin."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If I should come within thy bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am no earthly man:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And should I kiss thy rosy lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy days will not be lang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sweet Margaret, O dear Margaret,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee speak to mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my faith and troth, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I gave it to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy faith and troth thou's never get,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet will I thee lend,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till you take me to yon kirk-yard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wed me with a ring."<!-- Page 147 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afar beyond the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it is but my spirit, Margaret,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's now speaking to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She stretched out her lily-white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for to do her best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hae <a name="LNanchor_13a_39" id="LNanchor_13a_39"></a><a href="#Linenote_13a_39" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">there</a> your faith and troth, Willy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God send your soul good rest."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now she has kilted her robes of green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A piece below her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' the live-lang winter night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dead corps followed she.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is there any room at your head, Willy,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or any room at your feet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or any room at your side, Willy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein that I may creep?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's no room at my head, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's no room at my feet;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's no room at my side, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My coffin's made so meet."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and crew the red red cock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And up then crew the gray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Tis time, tis time, my dear Margaret,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you were going away."<!-- Page 148 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more the ghost to Margaret said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, with a grievous groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Evanish'd in a cloud of mist,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And left her all alone.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O stay, my only true love, stay,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The constant Margaret cried:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wan grew her cheeks, she closed her een,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stretch'd her soft limbs, and died.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_13a_39" id="Linenote_13a_39"></a><a href="#LNanchor_13a_39" title="link to line number">39</a>. ther's.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 149 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="WILLIAM_AND_MARJORIE" id="WILLIAM_AND_MARJORIE"></a>WILLIAM AND MARJORIE.</h3> + +<p class="center">Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 186.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Marjorie, Lady Marjorie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat sewing her silken seam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by her came a pale, pale ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mony a sigh and mane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Are ye my father the king?" she says,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or are ye my brither John?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or are ye my true love, sweet William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From England newly come?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'm not your father the king," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"No, no, nor your brither John;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'm your true love, sweet William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From England that's newly come."<!-- Page 150 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have ye brought me any scarlets sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or any of the silks sae fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or have ye brought me any precious things,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That merchants have for sale?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have not brought you any scarlets sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No, no, nor the silks sae fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I have brought you my winding-sheet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ower many a rock and hill.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lady Marjorie, Lady Marjorie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For faith and charitie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will ye gie to me my faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I gave once to thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O your faith and troth I'll not gie to thee,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">No, no, that will not I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until I get ae kiss of your ruby lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in my arms you lye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My lips they are sae bitter," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My breath it is sae strang,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you get ae kiss of my ruby lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your days will not be lang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The cocks are crawing, Marjorie," he says,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The cocks are crawing again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's time the dead should part the quick,—<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marjorie, I must be gane."<!-- Page 151 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She followed him high, she followed him low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till she came to yon churchyard green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there the deep grave opened up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And young William he lay down.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What three things are these, sweet William," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That stand here at your head?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O it's three maidens, Marjorie," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That I promised once to wed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What three things are these, sweet William," she says,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That stand close at your side?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O it's three babes, Marjorie," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That these three maidens had."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What three things are these, sweet William," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That lye close at your feet?"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O it's three hell-hounds, Marjorie," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That's waiting my soul to keep."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O she took up her white, white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she struck him on the breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying,—"Have there again your faith and troth,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I wish your saul gude rest."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 152 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SWEET_WILLIAM_AND_MAY_MARGARET" id="SWEET_WILLIAM_AND_MAY_MARGARET"></a>SWEET WILLIAM AND MAY MARGARET.</h3> + +<p class="center">Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 241.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As May Marg'ret sat in her bouerie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In her bouer all alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the very parting o' midnicht,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She heard a mournfu' moan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O is it my father, O is it my mother,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or is it my brother John?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is it sweet William, my ain true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Scotland new come home?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is na your father, it is na your mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is na your brother John;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it is sweet William, your ain true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Scotland new come home."<!-- Page 153 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hae ye brought me onie fine things,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Onie new thing for to wear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hae ye brought me a braid o' lace,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To snood up my gowden hair?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've brought ye na fine things at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor onie new thing to wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hae I brought ye a braid of lace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To snood up your gowden hair.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But Margaret, dear Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray ye speak to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O gie me back my faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As dear as I gied it thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your faith and troth ye sanna get,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will I wi' ye twin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till ye come within my bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss me, cheek and chin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Margaret, dear Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray ye speak to me;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O gie me back my faith and troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As dear as I gied it thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your faith and troth ye sanna get,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will I wi' ye twin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till ye tak me to yonder kirk,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wed me wi' a ring."<!-- Page 154 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O should I come within your bouer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am na earthly man:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I should kiss your red, red lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your days wad na be lang.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's far ayont the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it is my spirit, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's speaking unto thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your faith and troth ye sanna get,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will I twin wi' thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell ye tell me the pleasures o' Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pains of hell how they be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The pleasures of heaven I wat not of,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But the pains of hell I dree;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There some are hie hang'd for huring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some for adulterie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Marg'ret took her milk-white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And smooth'd it on his breast;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Tak your faith and troth, William,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">God send your soul good rest!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 155 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BONNY_BARBARA_ALLAN" id="BONNY_BARBARA_ALLAN"></a>BONNY BARBARA ALLAN</h3> + + +<p>Was first published in Ramsay's <i>Tea-Table Miscellany</i>, +(ii. 171,) from which it is transferred verbatim into +Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, Ritson's +<i>Scottish Songs</i>, &c. Percy printed it, "with a few +conjectural emendations, from a written copy," <i>Reliques</i>, +iii. 175, together with another version, which +follows the present. Mr. G. F. Graham, <i>Songs of +Scotland</i>, ii. 157, has pointed out an allusion to the +"little Scotch Song of <i>Barbary Allen</i>," in Pepys's <i>Diary</i>, +2 Jan. 1665-6.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was in and about the Martinmas time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the green leaves were a falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Sir John Graeme in the west country<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell in love with Barbara Allan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sent his man down through the town,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the place where she was dwelling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O haste and come to my master dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ye be Barbara Allan."<!-- Page 156 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O hooly, hooly rose she up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the place where he was lying,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when she drew the curtain by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Young man, I think you're dying."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O the better for me ye's never be,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' your heart's blood were a spilling.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O dinna ye mind, young man," said she,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"When ye was in the tavern a drinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ye made the healths gae round and round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slighted Barbara Allan."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turn'd his face unto the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And death was with him dealing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And be kind to Barbara Allan."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And slowly, slowly raise she up,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slowly, slowly left him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sighing said, she cou'd not stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since death of life had reft him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She had not gane a mile but twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she heard the dead-bell ringing,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every jow that the dead-bell geid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It cry'd "Woe to Barbara Allan!"<!-- Page 157 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mother, mother, make my bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O make it saft and narrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since my love died for me today,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll die for him tomorrow."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 158 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BARBARA_ALLENS_CRUELTY" id="BARBARA_ALLENS_CRUELTY"></a>BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, iii. 169.</p> + + +<p>"Given, with some corrections, from an old blackletter +copy, entitled, <i>Barbara Allen's Cruelty, or the +Young Man's Tragedy</i>."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Scarlet towne, where I was borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There was a faire maid dwellin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made every youth crye, Wel-awaye!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her name was Barbara Allen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All in the merrye month of May,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When greene buds they were swellin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yong Jemmye Grove on his death-bed lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For love of Barbara Allen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sent his man unto her then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the towne where shee was dwellin;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You must come to my master deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Giff your name be Barbara Allen.<!-- Page 159 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For death is printed on his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ore his hart is stealin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then haste away to comfort him,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O lovelye Barbara Allen."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Though death be printed on his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ore his harte is stealin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet little better shall he bee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For bonny Barbara Allen."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So slowly, slowly, she came up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slowly she came nye him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all she sayd, when there she came,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Yong man, I think y'are dying."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turned his face unto her strait,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With deadlye sorrow sighing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O lovely maid, come pity mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'me on my death-bed lying."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If on your death-bed you doe lye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What needs the tale you are tellin?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot keep you from your death;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Farewell," sayd Barbara Allen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turnd his face unto the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As deadlye pangs he fell in:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Adieu! adieu! adieu to you all,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Adieu to Barbara Allen!"<!-- Page 160 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she was walking ore the fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She heard the bell a knellin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every stroke did seem to saye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Unworthy Barbara Allen!"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turnd her bodye round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And spied the corps a coming:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Laye down, laye down the corps," she sayd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That I may look upon him."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With scornful eye she looked downe,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her cheeke with laughter swellin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst all her friends cryd out amaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Unworthye Barbara Allen!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he was dead, and laid in grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her harte was struck with sorrowe;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O mother, mother, make my bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I shall dye to-morrowe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hard-harted creature him to slight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who loved me so dearlye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that I had beene more kind to him,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he was alive and neare me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She, on her death-bed as she laye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beg'd to be buried by him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sore repented of the daye,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 161 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span><span class="i2">That she did ere denye him.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell," she sayd, "ye virgins all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shun the fault I fell in:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth take warning by the fall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of cruel Barbara Allen."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 162 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_LOVEL" id="LORD_LOVEL"></a>LORD LOVEL.</h3> + + +<p>"This ballad, taken down from the recitation of a +lady in Roxburghshire, appears to claim affinity to +Border Song; and the title of the 'discourteous squire,' +would incline one to suppose that it has derived its origin +from some circumstance connected with the county +of Northumberland, where Lovel was anciently a well-known +name." Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, +p. 31.</p> + +<p>A version from a recent broadside is printed in +<i>Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry +of England</i>, Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 78.</p> + +<p>A fragment of a similar story, the relations of the +parties being reversed, is <i>Lady Alice</i>, given in Bell's +Ballads of the Peasantry, p. 127, and <i>Notes and Queries</i>, +2d S, i. 418.—Compare also <i>Fair Margaret</i>, &c. p. +140.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Lovel stands at his stable door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mounted upon a grey steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bye came Ladie Nanciebel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wish'd Lord Lovel much speed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare are ye going, Lord Lovel,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My dearest tell to me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I am going a far journey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some strange countrie to see;<!-- Page 163 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I'll return in seven long years,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady Nanciebel to see."<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O seven, seven, seven long years,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They are much too long for me."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was gane a year away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A year but barely ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a strange fancy cam into his head,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That fair Nanciebel was gane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It's then he rade, and better rade,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until he cam to the toun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then he heard a dismal noise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the church bells a' did soun'.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He asked what the bells rang for;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They said, "It's for Nanciebel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She died for a discourteous squire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his name is Lord Lovel."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lid o' the coffin he opened up,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The linens he faulded doun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ae he kiss'd her pale, pale lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the tears cam trinkling doun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Weill may I kiss those pale, pale lips,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 164 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span><span class="i2">For they will never kiss me;—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll mak a vow, and keep it true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That they'll ne'er kiss ane but thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Nancie died on Tuesday's nicht,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Lovel upon the niest day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lady Nancie died for pure, pure love,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Lovel, for deep sorray.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 165 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_SALTON_AND_AUCHANACHIE1" id="LORD_SALTON_AND_AUCHANACHIE1"></a>LORD SALTON AND AUCHANACHIE.</h3> + + +<p>The following fragment was first published in Maidment's +<i>North Countrie Garland</i>, p. 10; shortly after, +in Buchan's <i>Gleanings</i>, p. 161. A more complete +copy, from Buchan's larger collection, is annexed.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ben came her father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Skipping on the floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said, "Jeanie, you're trying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tricks of a whore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You're caring for him<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That cares not for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I pray you take Salton,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let Auchanachie be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will not have Salton,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 166 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><span class="i2">It lies low by the sea;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is bowed in the back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's thrawen in the knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll die if I get not<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My brave Auchanachie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I am bowed in the back,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lassie as ye see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the bonny lands of Salton<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are no crooked tee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when she was married<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She would not lie down,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they took out a knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cuttit her gown;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Likewise of her stays<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lacing in three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now she lies dead<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For her Auchanachie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out comes her bower-woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wringing her hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Alas for the staying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So long on the sands!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas for the staying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So long on the flood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Jeanie was married,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now she is dead."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 167 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_SALTON_AND_AUCHANACHIE2" id="LORD_SALTON_AND_AUCHANACHIE2"></a>LORD SALTON AND AUCHANACHIE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 133.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Auchanachie Gordon is bonny and braw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would tempt any woman that ever he saw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would tempt any woman, so has he tempted me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In came her father, tripping on the floor,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Jeanie, ye're trying the tricks o' a whore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye're caring for them that cares little for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye must marry Salton, leave Auchanachie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Auchanachie Gordon, he is but a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Altho' he be pretty, where lies his free land?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salton's lands they lie broad, his towers they stand hie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye must marry Salton, leave Auchanachie.<!-- Page 168 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Salton will gar you wear silk gowns fring'd to thy knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye'll never wear that wi' your love Auchanachie."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wi' Auchanachie Gordon I would beg my bread,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before that wi' Salton I'd wear gowd on my head;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wear gowd on my head, or gowns fring'd to the knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Salton's valley lies low by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Salton's a valley lies low by the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bonny rigs of Salton they're nae thrawin tee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O you that are my parents to church may me bring,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But unto young Salton I'll never bear a son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For son, or for daughter, I'll ne'er bow my knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Jeanie was married, from church was brought hame,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 169 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span><span class="i0">When she wi' her maidens sae merry shou'd hae been,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she wi' her maidens sae merry shou'd hae been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's called for a chamber to weep there her lane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come to your bed, Jeanie, my honey and my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to stile you mistress I do not think it meet."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mistress, or Jeanie, it is a' ane to me,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's in your bed, Salton, I never will be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out spake her father, he spake wi' renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Some of you that are maidens, ye'll loose aff her gown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some of you that are maidens, ye'll loose aff her gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll mend the marriage wi' ten thousand crowns."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then ane of her maidens they loosed aff her gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bonny Jeanie Gordon, she fell in a swoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fell in a swoon low down by their knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Look on, I die for my love Auchanachie!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That very same day Miss Jeanie did die,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hame came Auchanachie, hame frae the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her father and mither welcom'd him at the gate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, "Where's Miss Jeanie, that she's nae here yet?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then forth came her maidens, all wringing their hands,<!-- Page 170 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, "Alas! for your staying sae lang frae the land:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae lang frae the land, and sae lang fra the fleed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They've wedded your Jeanie, and now she is dead!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Some of you, her maidens, take me by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show me the chamber Miss Jeanie died in;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kiss'd her cold lips, which were colder than stane,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he died in the chamber that Jeanie died in.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 171 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="WILLIE_AND_MAY_MARGARET" id="WILLIE_AND_MAY_MARGARET"></a>WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET.</h3> + + +<p>A fragment obtained by Jamieson from the recitation +of Mrs. Brown, of Falkland. <i>Popular Ballads</i>, +i. 135. In connection with this we give the complete +story from Buchan. Aytoun has changed the title to +<i>The Mother's Malison</i>. An Italian ballad, containing +a story similar to that of this ballad and the two following +(but of independent origin), is <i>La Maledizione +Materna</i>, in Marcoaldi's <i>Canti Popolari</i>, p. 170.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gie corn to my horse, mither;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gie meat unto my man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I maun gang to Margaret's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the nicht comes on."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O stay at hame now, my son Willie!<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wind blaws cald and sour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nicht will be baith mirk and late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before ye reach her bower."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tho' the nicht were ever sae dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or the wind blew never sae cald,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will be in my Margaret's bower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before twa hours be tald."<!-- Page 172 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin ye gang to May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without the leave of me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clyde's water's wide and deep enough;—<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My malison drown thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He mounted on his coal-black steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fast he rade awa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ere he came to Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fu' loud the wind did blaw.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As he rode o'er yon hich, hich hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down yon dowie den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was a roar in Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad fear'd a hunder men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His heart was warm, his pride was up;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet Willie kentna fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yet his mither's malison<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay sounded in his ear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he has swam through Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' it was wide and deep;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he came to May Margaret's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When a' were fast asleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he's gane round and round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But doors were steek'd, and window's bar'd,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<!-- Page 173 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span><span class="i2">And nane wad let him in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O open the door to me, Margaret,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O open and lat me in!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my boots are full o' Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And frozen to the brim."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I darena open the door to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor darena lat you in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my mither she is fast asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I darena mak nae din."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin ye winna open the door,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet be kind to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now tell me o' some out-chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where I this nicht may be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye canna win in this nicht, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor here ye canna be;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I've nae chambers out nor in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae ane but barely three:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The tane o' them is fu' o' corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tither is fu' o' hay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tither is fu' o' merry young men;—<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They winna remove till day."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O fare ye weel, then, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin better manna be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've win my mither's malison,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 174 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span><span class="i2">Coming this nicht to thee."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's mounted on his coal-black steed,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O but his heart was wae!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ere he came to Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas half up o'er the brae.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">—— he plunged in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never raise again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 175 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_DROWNED_LOVERS" id="THE_DROWNED_LOVERS"></a>THE DROWNED LOVERS.</h3> + +<p>From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, +i. 140. The copy in the Appendix to Motherwell's +<i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. iii., is nearly the same.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Willie stands in his stable door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And clapping at his steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And looking o'er his white fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His nose began to bleed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gie corn to my horse, mother;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And meat to my young man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll awa' to Meggie's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll win ere she lie down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bide this night wi' me, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O bide this night wi' me;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best an' cock o' a' the reest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At your supper shall be.<!-- Page 176 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A' your cocks, and a' your reests,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I value not a prin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll win ere she lie down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Stay this night wi' me, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O stay this night wi' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best an' sheep in a' the flock<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At your supper shall be."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A' your sheep, and a' your flocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I value not a prin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll win ere she lie down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O an' ye gang to Meggie's bower,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae sair against my will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deepest pot in Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My malison ye's feel."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The guid steed that I ride upon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cost me thrice thretty pound;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll put trust in his swift feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hae me safe to land."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As he rade ower yon high, high hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down yon dowie den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noise that was in Clyde's water<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wou'd fear'd five huner men.<!-- Page 177 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O roaring Clyde, ye roar ower loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your streams seem wond'rous strang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_17b_39" id="LNanchor_17b_39"></a><a href="#Linenote_17b_39" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Make me your wreck as I come back</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But spare me as I gang."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he is on to Meggie's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O sleep ye, wake ye, Meggie," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Ye'll open, lat me come in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha is this at my bower door,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That calls me by my name?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is your first love, sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night newly come hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hae few lovers thereout, thereout,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As few hae I therein;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best an' love that ever I had,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was here just late yestreen."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The warstan stable in a' your stables,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For my puir steed to stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warstan bower in a' your bowers,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For me to lie therein:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My boots are fu' o' Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm shivering at the chin."<!-- Page 178 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My barns are fu' o' corn, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My stables are fu' o' hay;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My bowers are fu' o' gentlemen;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'll nae remove till day."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O fare-ye-well, my fause Meggie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O farewell, and adieu;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've gotten my mither's malison,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night coming to you."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As he rode ower yon high, high hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down yon dowie den;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rushing that was in Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Took Willie's cane frae him.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lean'd him ower his saddle bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To catch his cane again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rushing that was in Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Took Willie's hat frae him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lean'd him ower his saddle bow,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To catch his hat thro' force;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rushing that was in Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Took Willie frae his horse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His brither stood upo' the bank,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Fye, man, will ye drown?<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll turn ye to your high horse head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And learn how to sowm."<!-- Page 179 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How can I turn to my horse head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And learn how to sowm?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've gotten my mither's malison,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its here that I maun drown!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The very hour this young man sank<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the pot sae deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up it waken'd his love, Meggie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out o' her drowsy sleep.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come here, come here, my mither dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And read this dreary dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dream'd my love was at our gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nane wad let him in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lye still, lye still now, my Meggie.<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lye still and tak your rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sin' your true love was at your yates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's but twa quarters past."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nimbly, nimbly raise she up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nimbly pat she on;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the higher that the lady cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The louder blew the win.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first an' step that she stepp'd in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She stepped to the queet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ohon, alas!" said that lady,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"This water's wond'rous deep."<!-- Page 180 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The next an' step that she wade in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wadit to the knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says she, "I cou'd wide farther in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If I my love cou'd see."<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The next an' step that she wade in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She wadit to the chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deepest pot in Clyde's water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She got sweet Willie in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You've had a cruel mither, Willie,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I have had anither;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we shall sleep in Clyde's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like sister an' like brither."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_17b_39" id="Linenote_17b_39"></a><a href="#LNanchor_17b_39" title="link to line number"> +39</a>, 40. Found also in <i>Leander on the Bay</i>, and taken from +the epigram of Martial:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Clamabat tumidis audax Leander in undis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mergite me fluctus, cum rediturus ero."<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 181 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="WILLIES_DROWNED_IN_GAMERY" id="WILLIES_DROWNED_IN_GAMERY"></a>WILLIE'S DROWNED IN GAMERY.</h3> + + +<p>From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, +i. 245. A fragment, exhibiting some differences, is +among those ballads of Buchan which are published in +the Percy Society's volumes, xvii. 66. Four stanzas, +of a superior cast, upon the same story, are printed in +the <i>Tea-Table Miscellany</i>, (ii. 141.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Rare Willy drown'd in Yarrow.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Willy's rare, and Willy's fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Willy's wond'rous bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Willy heght to marry me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin e'er he married ony.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night I'll make it narrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a' the livelang winter night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I ly twin'd of my marrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O came you by yon water-side?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pou'd you the rose or lilly?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or came you by yon meadow green?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or saw you my sweet Willy?"<!-- Page 182 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sought him east, she sought him west,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She sought him braid and narrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Syne in the cleaving of a craig,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She found him drown'd in Yarrow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These stanzas furnished the theme to Logan's <i>Braes +of Yarrow</i>.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Willie is fair, and Willie is rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Willie is wond'rous bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Willie says he'll marry me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ever he marry ony."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye'se get James, or ye'se get George,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or ye's get bonny Johnnie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'se get the flower o' a' my sons,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ye'll forsake my Willie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what care I for James or George,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or yet for bonny Peter?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dinna value their love a leek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' I getna Willie the writer."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Willie has a bonny hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear but it is bonny;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He has nae mair for a' his land;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">What wou'd ye do wi' Willie?"<!-- Page 183 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Willie has a bonny face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dear but it is bonny;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But Willie has nae other grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What wou'd ye do wi' Willie?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Willie's fair, and Willie's rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Willie's wond'rous bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nane wi' him that can compare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I love him best of ony."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Wednesday, that fatal day,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The people were convening;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides all this, threescore and ten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To gang to the bridesteel wi' him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride on, ride on, my merry men a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I've forgot something behind me;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've forgot to get my mother's blessing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To gae to the bridesteel wi' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your Peggy she's but bare fifteen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye are scarcely twenty;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The water o' Gamery is wide and braid,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heavy curse gang wi' thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they rode on, and further on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till they came on to Gamery;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind was loud, the stream was proud,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 184 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><span class="i2">And wi' the stream gaed Willie.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they rode on, and further on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till they came to the kirk o' Gamery;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every one on high horse sat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But Willie's horse rade toomly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When they were settled at that place,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The people fell a mourning;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a council held amo' them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But sair, sair wept Kinmundy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks the bride hersell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "What means a' this mourning?<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the man amo' them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shou'd gie me fair wedding?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks his brother John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Meg, I'll tell you plainly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stream was strong, the clerk rade wrong,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Willie's drown'd in Gamery."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She put her hand up to her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where were the ribbons many;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rave them a', let them down fa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And straightway ran to Gamery.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sought it up, she sought it down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till she was wet and weary;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the middle part o' it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There she got her deary.<!-- Page 185 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she stroak'd back his yellow hair,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss'd his mou' sae comely;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My mother's heart's be as wae as thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We'se baith asleep in the water o' Gamery."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 186 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="ANNAN_WATER" id="ANNAN_WATER"></a>ANNAN WATER.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 282.</p> + + +<p>"The following verses are the original words of the +tune of <i>Allan Water</i>, by which name the song is +mentioned in Ramsay's <i>Tea-Table Miscellany</i>. The +ballad is given from tradition; and it is said that a +bridge over the Annan, was built in consequence of +the melancholy catastrophe which it narrates. Two +verses are added in this edition, from another copy of +the ballad, in which the conclusion proves fortunate. +By the <i>Gatehope-Slack</i>, is perhaps meant the <i>Gate-Slack</i>, +a pass in Annandale. The Annan, and the +Frith of Solway, into which it falls, are the frequent +scenes of tragical accidents. The Editor trusts he will +be pardoned for inserting the following awfully impressive +account of such an event, contained in a letter +from Dr. Currie, of Liverpool, by whose correspondence, +while in the course of preparing these volumes +for the press, he has been alike honoured and instruct<!-- Page 187 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>ed. +After stating that he had some recollection of the +ballad which follows, the biographer of Burns proceeds +thus:—'I once in my early days heard (for it was +night, and I could not see) a traveller drowning; not +in the Annan itself, but in the Frith of Solway, close +by the mouth of that river. The influx of the tide had +unhorsed him, in the night, as he was passing the sands +from Cumberland. The west wind blew a tempest, +and, according to the common expression, brought in +the water <i>three foot a-breast</i>. The traveller got upon +a standing net, a little way from the shore. There he +lashed himself to the post, shouting for half an hour +for assistance—till the tide rose over his head! In the +darkness of the night, and amid the pauses of the hurricane, +his voice, heard at intervals, was exquisitely +mournful. No one could go to his assistance—no one +knew where he was—the sound seemed to proceed from +the spirit of the waters. But morning rose—the tide +had ebbed—and the poor traveller was found lashed to +the pole of the net, and bleaching in the wind.'"</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 30em;"><span class="smcap">Scott.</span></span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Annan water's wading deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my love Annie's wondrous bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am laith she suld weet her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because I love her best of ony.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gar saddle me the bonny black,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gar saddle sune, and make him ready;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all to see my bonny ladye."<!-- Page 188 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has loupen on the bonny black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He stirr'd him wi' the spur right sairly;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think the steed was wae and weary.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has loupen on the bonny grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He rade the right gate and the ready;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I trow he would neither stint nor stay,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he was seeking his bonny ladye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he has ridden o'er field and fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through muir and moss, and mony a mire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His spurs o' steel were sair to bide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fra her fore-feet flew the fire.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, bonny grey, now play your part!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' corn and hay ye'se be fed for aye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never spur sall make you wearie."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The grey was a mare, and a right good mare;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But when she wan the Annan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had a thousand merks been wadded at her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O boatman, boatman, put off your boat!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put off your boat for gowden money!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cross the drumly stream the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or never mair I see my honey."<!-- Page 189 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I was sworn sae late yestreen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And not by ae aith, but by many;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I dare na take ye through to Annie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The side was stey, and the bottom deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae bank to brae the water pouring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she heard the water-kelpy roaring.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O he has pou'd aff his dapperby coat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The silver buttons glanced bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was sae full of melancholy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has ta'en the ford at that stream tail;<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wot he swam both strong and steady;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he never saw his bonny ladye!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae betide the frush saugh wand!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wae betide the bush of brier!<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It brake into my true love's hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And wae betide ye, Annan Water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night that ye are a drumlie river!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For over thee I'll build a bridge,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye never more true love may sever."—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 190 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="ANDREW_LAMMIE" id="ANDREW_LAMMIE"></a>ANDREW LAMMIE.</h3> + + +<p>"From a stall copy published at Glasgow several +years ago, collated with a recited copy, which has furnished +one or two verbal improvements." Motherwell's +<i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 239.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamieson has published two other sets of this +simple, but touching ditty, (i. 126, ii. 382,) one of +which is placed after the present. Motherwell's text +is almost verbatim that of Buchan's <i>Gleanings</i>, p. 98. +The <i>Thistle of Scotland</i> copies Buchan and Jamieson +without acknowledgment.</p> + +<p>The story has been made the foundation of a rude +drama in the North of Scotland. For a description of +similar entertainments, see Cunningham's Introduction +to his <i>Songs of Scotland</i>, i. 148.</p> + +<p>The unfortunate maiden's name, according to Buchan, +(<i>Gleanings</i>, p. 197,) "was Annie, or Agnes, +(which are synonymous in some parts of Scotland,) +Smith, who died of a broken heart on the 9th of January, +1631, as is to be found on a roughly cut stone, +broken in many pieces, in the green churchyard of<!-- Page 191 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +Fyvie." "What afterwards became of Bonny Andrew +Lammie," says Jamieson, "we have not been able to +learn; but the current tradition of the 'Lawland leas +of Fyvie,' says, that some years subsequent to the melancholy +fate of poor Tifty's Nanny, her sad story being +mentioned, and the ballad sung in a company in Edinburgh +when he was present, he remained silent and +motionless, till he was discovered by a groan suddenly +bursting from him, and <i>several of the buttons flying +from his waistcoat</i>."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Mill o' Tifty liv'd a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the neighbourhood of Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had a lovely daughter fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was called bonny Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her bloom was like the springing flower<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That salutes the rosy morning;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With innocence and graceful mien<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her beauteous form adorning.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose name was Andrew Lammie;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had the art to gain the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Mill o' Tiftie's Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Proper he was, both young and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His like was not in Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one was there that could compare<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With this same Andrew Lammie.<!-- Page 192 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Fyvie he rode by the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where lived Tiftie's Annie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His trumpeter rode him before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even this same Andrew Lammie.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her mother call'd her to the door:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Come here to me, my Annie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did you ever see a prettier man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than this Trumpeter of Fyvie?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sighed sore, but said no more,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas, for bonny Annie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She durst not own her heart was won<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the Trumpeter of Fyvie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At night when they went to their beds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All slept full sound but Annie;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love so opprest her tender breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thinking on Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Love comes in at my bed side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And love lies down beyond me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love has possess'd my tender breast,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And love will waste my body.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The first time I and my love met<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was in the woods of Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lovely form and speech so sweet<br /></span> +<!-- Page 193 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span><span class="i2">Soon gain'd the heart of Annie.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He called me mistress; I said, No,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm Tiftie's bonny Annie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With apples sweet he did me treat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kisses soft and many.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's up and down in Tiftie's den,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the burn runs clear and bonny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've often gone to meet my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bonny Andrew Lammie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now, alas! her father heard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the Trumpeter of Fyvie<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had had the art to gain the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Tiftie's bonny Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father soon a letter wrote,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sent it on to Fyvie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell his daughter was bewitch'd<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">By his servant Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Lord Fyvie had this letter read,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear! but he was sorry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bonniest lass in Fyvie's land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is bewitched by Andrew Lammie.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up the stair his trumpeter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He called soon and shortly:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Pray tell me soon, what's this you've done<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Tiftie's bonny Annie?"<!-- Page 194 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In wicked art I had no part,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor therein am I canny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True love alone the heart has won<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Tiftie's bonny Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Woe betide Mill o' Tiftie's pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For it has ruin'd many;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'll no ha'e 't said that she should wed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Trumpeter of Fyvie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where will I find a boy so kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That'll carry a letter canny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who will run on to Tiftie's town,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give it to my love Annie?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here you shall find a boy so kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who'll carry a letter canny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who will run on to Tiftie's town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gi'e 't to thy love Annie."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's Tiftie he has daughters three,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who all are wondrous bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye'll ken her o'er a' the lave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gi'e that to bonny Annie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's up and down in Tiftie's den,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the burn runs clear and bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There wilt thou come and meet thy love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy bonny Andrew Lammie.<!-- Page 195 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When wilt thou come, and I'll attend?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My love, I long to see thee."<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou may'st come to the bridge of Sleugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there I'll come and meet thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My love, I go to Edinbro',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for a while must leave thee;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sighed sore, and said no more<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But "I wish that I were wi' thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll buy to thee a bridal gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My love, I'll buy it bonny;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But I'll be dead, ere ye come back<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see your bonnie Annie."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you'll be true and constant too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As my name's Andrew Lammie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall thee wed, when I come back<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see the lands of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will be true, and constant too,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To thee, my Andrew Lammie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my bridal bed will ere then be made,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the green churchyard of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Our time is gone, and now comes on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My dear, that I must leave thee;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If longer here I should appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mill o' Tiftie he would see me."<!-- Page 196 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I now for ever bid adieu<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To thee, my Andrew Lammie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere ye come back, I will be laid<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the green churchyard of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hied him to the head of the house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the house top of Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He blew his trumpet loud and schill;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas heard at Mill o' Tiftie.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father lock'd the door at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid by the keys fu' canny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he heard the trumpet sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said, "Your cow is lowing, Annie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My father dear, I pray forbear,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And reproach no more your Annie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'd rather hear that cow to low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than ha'e a' the kine in Fyvie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I would not, for my braw new gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' your gifts sae many,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it were told in Fyvie's land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How cruel you are to Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if ye strike me, I will cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gentlemen will hear me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Fyvie will be riding by,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he'll come in and see me."<!-- Page 197 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the same time, the Lord came in;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He said, "What ails thee, Annie?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Tis all for love now I must die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For bonny Andrew Lammie."<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pray, Mill o' Tifty, gi'e consent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let your daughter marry."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It will be with some higher match<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If she were come of as high a kind<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she's adorned with beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would take her unto myself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make her mine own lady."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's Fyvie's lands are fair and wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they are rich and bonny;<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would not leave my own true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For all the lands of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father struck her wondrous sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And also did her mother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sisters always did her scorn;<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But woe be to her brother!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her brother struck her wondrous sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With cruel strokes and many;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He brake her back in the hall door,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 198 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span><span class="i2">For liking Andrew Lammie.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas! my father and mother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why so cruel to your Annie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart was broken first by love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My brother has broken my body.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mother dear, make ye my bed,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay my face to Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus will I ly, and thus will die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For my love, Andrew Lammie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye neighbours, hear, both far and near;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye pity Tiftie's Annie,<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dies for love of one poor lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For bonny Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No kind of vice e'er stain'd my life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor hurt my virgin honour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My youthful heart was won by love,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But death will me exoner."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her mother then she made her bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laid her face to Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her tender heart it soon did break,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ne'er saw Andrew Lammie.<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the word soon went up and down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through all the lands of Fyvie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she was dead and buried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even Tiftie's bonny Annie.<!-- Page 199 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said, "Alas, for Tiftie's Annie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest flower's cut down by love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That e'er sprung up in Fyvie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O woe betide Mill o' Tiftie's pride!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He might have let them marry;<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have giv'n them both to live<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the lands of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father sorely now laments<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The loss of his dear Annie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wishes he had gi'en consent<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wed with Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her mother grieves both air and late;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her sisters, 'cause they scorn'd her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely her brother doth mourn and grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the cruel usage he'd giv'n her.<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now, alas! it was too late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For they could not recal her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through life, unhappy is their fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because they did controul her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Andrew hame from Edinburgh came,<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With meikle grief and sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My love has died for me to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll die for her to-morrow.<!-- Page 200 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now I will on to Tiftie's den,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the burn runs clear and bonny;<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tears I'll view the bridge of <a name="LNanchor_20a_211" id="LNanchor_20a_211"></a><a href="#Linenote_20a_211" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Sleugh</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where I parted last with Annie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then will I speed to the churchyard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the green churchyard of Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tears I'll water my love's grave,<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I follow Tiftie's Annie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye parents grave, who children have,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In crushing them be canny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest when too late you do repent;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Remember Tiftie's Annie.<span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_20a_211" id="Linenote_20a_211"></a><a href="#LNanchor_20a_211" title="link to line number">211</a>. "In one printed copy this is 'Sheugh,' and in a recited +copy it was called 'Skew'; which is the right reading, +the editor, from his ignorance of the topography of the +lands of Fyvie, is unable to say. It is a received superstition +in Scotland, that, when friends or lovers part at a bridge, +they shall never again meet." <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 201 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_TRUMPETER_OF_FYVIE" id="THE_TRUMPETER_OF_FYVIE"></a>THE TRUMPETER OF FYVIE.</h3> + + +<p>"The ballad was taken down by Dr. Leyden from +the recitation of a young lady (Miss Robson) of Edinburgh, +who learned it in Teviotdale. It was current +in the Border counties within these few years, as it +still is in the northeast of Scotland, where the scene is +laid." Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 129.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Fyvie's yetts there grows a flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It grows baith braid and bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a daisie in the midst o' it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin that flower war in my breast,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the love I bear the laddie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wad kiss it, and I wad clap it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And daut it for Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The first time me and my love met,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 202 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span><span class="i2">Was in the woods of Fyvie;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kissed my lips five thousand times,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ay he ca'd me bonny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a' the answer he gat frae me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was, My bonny Andrew Lammie!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love, I maun gang and leave thee;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sighed right sair, and said nae mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, O gin I were wi' ye!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But true and trusty will I be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I am Andrew Lammie;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll never kiss a woman's mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till I come back and see thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And true and trusty will I be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I am Tiftie's Annie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll never kiss a man again,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till ye come back and see me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Syne he's come back frae Edinburgh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the bonny hows o' Fyvie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ay his face to the nor-east,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To look for Tiftie's Annie.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I ha'e a love in Edinburgh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae ha'e I intill Leith, man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hae a love intill Montrose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae ha'e I in Dalkeith, man.<!-- Page 203 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And east and west, where'er I go,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My love she's always wi' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For east and west, where'er I go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My love she dwells in Fyvie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My love possesses a' my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nae pen can e'er indite her;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's ay sae stately as she goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I see nae mae like her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But Tiftie winna gi'e consent<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His dochter me to marry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because she has five thousand marks,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I have not a penny.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Love pines away, love dwines away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love, love, decays the body;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For love o' thee, oh I must die;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Adieu, my bonny Annie!"<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her mither raise out o' her bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ca'd on baith her women:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What ails ye, Annie, my dochter dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Annie, was ye dreamin'?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What dule disturb'd my dochter's sleep?<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O tell to me, my Annie!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sighed right sair, and said nae mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, "O for Andrew Lammie!"<!-- Page 204 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father beat her cruellie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae also did her mother;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sisters sair did scoff at her;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But wae betide her brother!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her brother beat her cruellie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till his straiks they werena canny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He brak her back, and he beat her sides,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the sake o' Andrew Lammie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O fie, O fie, my brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gentlemen 'll shame ye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laird o' Fyvie he's gaun by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he'll come in and see me.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he'll kiss me, and he'll clap me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he will speer what ails me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will answer him again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's a' for Andrew Lammie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her sisters they stood in the door,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sair griev'd her wi' their folly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O sister dear, come to the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your cow is lowin on you."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O fie, O fie, my sister dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grieve me not wi' your folly;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd rather hear the trumpet sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than a' the kye o' Fyvie.<!-- Page 205 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Love pines away, love dwines away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love, love decays the body;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For love o' thee now I maun die—<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Adieu to Andrew Lammie!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Tiftie's wrote a braid letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sent it into Fyvie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, his daughter was bewitch'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By bonny Andrew Lammie.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, Tiftie, ye maun gi'e consent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lat the lassie marry."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll never, never gi'e consent<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the Trumpeter of Fyvie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Fyvie looked the letter on,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was baith sad and sorry:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says—"The bonniest lass o' the country-side<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has died for Andrew Lammie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Andrew's gane to the house-top<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' the bonny house o' Fyvie;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's blawn his horn baith loud and shill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er the lawland leas o' Fyvie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mony a time ha'e I walk'd a' night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never yet was weary;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I may walk wae my lane,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I'll never see my deary.<!-- Page 206 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Love pines away, love dwines away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love, love, decays the body:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the love o' thee, now I maun die—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I come, my bonny Annie!"<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 207 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FAIR_HELEN_OF_KIRCONNELL" id="FAIR_HELEN_OF_KIRCONNELL"></a>FAIR HELEN OF KIRCONNELL.</h3> + + +<p>"The following very popular ballad has been handed +down by tradition in its present imperfect state. +The affecting incident on which it is founded is well +known. A lady, of the name of Helen Irving, or Bell, +(for this is disputed by the two clans,) daughter of the +Laird of Kirconnell, in Dumfries-shire, and celebrated +for her beauty, was beloved by two gentlemen in the +neighbourhood. The name of the favoured suitor was +Adam Fleming of Kirkpatrick; that of the other has +escaped tradition: though it has been alleged that he +was a Bell, of Blacket House. The addresses of the +latter were, however, favoured by the friends of the +lady, and the lovers were therefore obliged to meet in +secret, and by night, in the churchyard of Kirconnell, +a romantic spot, almost surrounded by the river Kirtle. +During one of these private interviews, the jealous and +despised lover suddenly appeared on the opposite bank +of the stream, and levelled his carabine at the breast of +his rival. Helen threw herself before her lover, received +in her bosom the bullet, and died in his arms.<!-- Page 208 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +A desperate and mortal combat ensued between Fleming +and the murderer, in which the latter was cut to +pieces. Other accounts say, that Fleming pursued +his enemy to Spain, and slew him in the streets of +Madrid.</p> + +<p>"The ballad, as now published, consists of two parts. +The first seems to be an address, either by Fleming or +his rival, to the lady; if, indeed, it constituted any +portion of the original poem. For the Editor cannot +help suspecting, that these verses have been the production +of a different and inferior bard, and only +adapted to the original measure and tune. But this +suspicion being unwarranted by any copy he has been +able to procure, he does not venture to do more than +intimate his own opinion. The second part, by far the +most beautiful, and which is unquestionably original, +forms the lament of Fleming over the grave of fair +Helen.</p> + +<p>"The ballad is here given, without alteration or improvement, +from the most accurate copy which could +be recovered. The fate of Helen has not, however, +remained unsung by modern bards. A lament, of +great poetical merit, by the learned historian, Mr. +Pinkerton, with several other poems on this subject, +have been printed in various forms.<a name="FNanchor_B" id="FNanchor_B"></a><a href="#Footnote_B" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></p> + +<p>"The grave of the lovers is yet shown in the churchyard +of Kirconnell, near Springkell. Upon the tombstone +can still be read—<i>Hic jacet Adamus Fleming</i>;<!-- Page 209 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +a cross and sword are sculptured on the stone. The +former is called by the country people, the gun with +which Helen was murdered; and the latter the avenging +sword of her lover. <i>Sit illis terra levis!</i> A heap +of stones is raised on the spot where the murder was +committed; a token of abhorrence common to most +nations." <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 98.</p> + +<p>Versions of the Second Part, (which alone deserves +notice,) nearly agreeing with Scott's, are given in the +Illustrations to the new edition of Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, +p. 143, by Mr. Stenhouse, p. 210, by Mr. Sharpe. Inferior +and fragmentary ones in Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, +i. 257; Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, 163; Ritson's <i>Scottish Song</i>, +i. 145; Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 203.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B" id="Footnote_B"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_B"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> For Pinkerton's elegy, see his <i>Select Scottish Ballads</i>, i. 109; +for Mayne's, the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i>, vol. 86, Part ii. 64. Jamieson +has enfeebled the story in <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 205, and Wordsworth's +<i>Ellen Irwin</i> hardly deserves more praise. <span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + + +<h3>FAIR HELEN.</h3> + +<h4>PART FIRST.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! sweetest sweet, and fairest fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of birth and worth beyond compare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art the causer of my care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since first I loved thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet God hath given to me a mind,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The which to thee shall prove as kind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As any one that thou shalt find,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of high or low degree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The shallowest water makes maist din,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deadest pool the deepest linn;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The richest man least truth within,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though he preferred be.<!-- Page 210 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, nevertheless, I am content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never a whit my love repent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But think the time was a' weel spent,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though I disdained be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! Helen sweet, and maist complete,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My captive spirit's at thy feet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinks thou still fit thus for to treat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy captive cruelly?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O! Helen brave! but this I crave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy poor slave some pity have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do him save that's near his grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dies for love of thee.<br /></span> +<!-- Page 211 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3>FAIR HELEN.</h3> + +<h4>PART SECOND.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wish I were where Helen lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and day on me she cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that I were where Helen lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On fair Kirconnell Lee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curst be the heart that thought the thought,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And curst the hand that fired the shot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in my arms burd Helen dropt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And died to succour me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O think na ye my heart was sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When my love dropt down and spak nae mair!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There did she swoon wi' meikle care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On fair Kirconnell Lee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As I went down the water side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None but my foe to be my guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None but my foe to be my guide,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">On fair Kirconnell Lee;<!-- Page 212 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I lighted down my sword to draw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hacked him in pieces sma',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hacked him in pieces sma',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For her sake that died for me.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Helen fair, beyond compare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll make a garland of thy hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall bind my heart for evermair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until the day I die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O that I were where Helen lies!<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and day on me she cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of my bed she bids me rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "Haste and come to me!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I were with thee, I were blest,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On fair Kirconnell Lee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wish my grave were growing green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A winding-sheet drawn ower my een,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I in Helen's arms lying,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">On fair Kirconnell Lee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wish I were where Helen lies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and day on me she cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am weary of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For her sake that died for me.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 213 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_LOWLANDS_OF_HOLLAND" id="THE_LOWLANDS_OF_HOLLAND"></a>THE LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Stenhouse was informed that this ballad was +composed, about the beginning of the last century, by +a young widow in Galloway, whose husband was +drowned on a voyage to Holland. (<i>Musical Museum</i>, +ed. 1853, iv. 115.) But some of the verses appear to +be old, and one stanza will be remarked to be of common +occurrence in ballad poetry.</p> + +<p>A fragment of this piece was published in Herd's +collection, (ii. 49.) Our copy is from Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, +p. 118, with the omission, however, of one spurious +and absurd stanza, while another, not printed by +Johnson, is supplied from the note above cited to the +new edition. Cunningham makes sense of the interpolated +verses and retains them; otherwise his version +is nearly the same as the present. (<i>Songs of Scotland</i>, +ii. 181.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The love that I have chosen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll therewith be content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The saut sea shall be frozen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that I repent;<!-- Page 214 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repent it shall I never,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until the day I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the lowlands of Holland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hae twinn'd my love and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My love lies in the saut sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I am on the side,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough to break a young thing's heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wha lately was a bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wha lately was a bonnie bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pleasure in her e'e,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the lowlands of Holland<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hae twinn'd my love and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My love he built a bonnie ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set her to the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' seven score brave mariners<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bear her companie;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Threescore gaed to the bottom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And threescore died at sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lowlands of Holland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hae twinn'd my love and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My love has built another ship<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And set her to the main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had but twenty mariners,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all to bring her hame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stormy winds did roar again,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 215 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span><span class="i2">The raging waves did rout,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my love and his bonnie ship<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Turn'd widdershins about.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_22_33" id="LNanchor_22_33"></a><a href="#Linenote_22_33" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"There shall nae mantle cross my back,</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor kame gae in my hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neither shall coal nor candle light<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shine in my bower mair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor shall I chuse anither love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until the day I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since the lowlands of Holland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hae twinn'd my love and me."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O haud your tongue, my daughter dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be still, and be content;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are mair lads in Galloway,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye need nae sair lament."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_22_45" id="LNanchor_22_45"></a><a href="#Linenote_22_45" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">"O there is nane in Galloway,</a><span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">There's nane at a' for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I never loved a lad but ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he's drowned in the sea."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_22_33" id="Linenote_22_33"></a><a href="#LNanchor_22_33" title="link to line number">33</a>-36, +<a name="Linenote_22_45" id="Linenote_22_45"></a><a href="#LNanchor_22_45" title="link to line number">45</a>-48. With the conclusion of this piece may be +compared a passage from <i>Bonny Bee-Ho'm</i>, vol. iii. p. 57.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ohon, alas! what shall I do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tormented night and day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never loved a love but ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now he's gone away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I will do for my true love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What ladies would think sair;<!-- Page 216 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seven years shall come and gae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere a kaime gae in my hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There shall neither a shoe gae on my foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor a kaime gae in my hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever a coal or candle light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shine in my bower nae mair."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See also <i>The Weary Coble o' Cargill</i>.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 217 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III.</h2> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 219 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_TWA_BROTHERS" id="THE_TWA_BROTHERS"></a>THE TWA BROTHERS.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, i. 59.</p> + + +<p>The ballad of the <i>Twa Brothers</i>, like many of the +domestic tragedies with which it is grouped in this volume, +is by no means the peculiar property of the island +of Great Britain. It finds an exact counterpart in +the Swedish ballad <i>Sven i Rosengård</i>, <i>Svenska F. V.</i>, +No. 67, Arwidsson, No. 87, A, B, which, together with +a Finnish version of the same story, thought to be derived +from the Swedish, will be found translated in our +Appendix. <i>Edward</i>, in Percy's <i>Reliques</i>, has the same +general theme, with the difference that a father is murdered +instead of a brother. Motherwell<a name="FNanchor_C" id="FNanchor_C"></a><a href="#Footnote_C" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> has printed a +ballad (<i>Son Davie</i>) closely agreeing with <i>Edward</i>, except<!-- Page 220 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +that the crime is again fratricide. He has also furnished +another version of <i>The Twa Brothers</i>, in which +the catastrophe is the consequence of an accident, and +this circumstance has led the excellent editor to tax +Jamieson with altering one of the most essential +features of the ballad, by filling out a defective +stanza with four lines that make one brother to +have slain the other in a quarrel. Jamieson is, however, +justified in giving this more melancholy character +to the story, by the tenor of all the kindred pieces, +and by the language of his own. It will be observed +that both in <i>Edward</i> and <i>Son Davie</i>, the wicked act +was not only deliberate, but was even instigated +by the mother. The departure from the original is +undoubtedly on the part of Motherwell's copy, which +has softened down a shocking incident to accommodate +a modern and refined sentiment. But Jamieson is artistically, +as well as critically right, since the effect of +the contrast of the remorse of one party and the generosity +of the other is heightened by representing the +terrible event as the result of ungoverned passion.</p> + +<p>The three Scottish ballads mentioned above, here +follow, and Motherwell's <i>Twa Brothers</i> will be found +in the Appendix. Mr. Sharpe has inserted a third +copy of this in his <i>Ballad Book</i>, p. 56. Another is said to +be in <i>The Scot's Magazine</i>, for June, 1822. Placing no +confidence in any of Allan Cunningham's <i>souvenirs</i> of +Scottish Song, we simply state that one of them, composed +upon the theme of the <i>Twa Brothers</i>, is included +in the <i>Songs of Scotland</i>, ii. 16.</p> + +<p>"The common title of this ballad is, <i>The Twa Brothers</i>, +or, <i>The Wood o' Warslin</i>, but the words <i>o' Warslin</i><!-- Page 221 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +appearing to the editor, as will be seen in the text, +to be a mistake for <i>a-wrestling</i>, he took the liberty of +altering it accordingly. After all, perhaps, the title +may be right; and the wood may afterwards have obtained +its denomination from the tragical event here +celebrated. A very few lines inserted by the editor +to fill up chasms, [some of which have been omitted,] +are inclosed in brackets; the text, in other respects, is +given genuine, as it was taken down from the recitation +of Mrs. Arrott." <span class="smcap">Jamieson.</span></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C" id="Footnote_C"></a> +<a href="#FNanchor_C"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> The stanza mentioned by Motherwell, as occurring in Werner's <i>Twenty +Fourth of February</i>, (Scene i.) is apparently only a quotation from +memory of Herder's translation of <i>Edward</i>. When Motherwell became aware +that a similar tradition was common to the Northern nations of Europe, +he could no longer have thought it possible that an occurrence in the +family history of the Somervilles gave rise to <i>The Twa Brothers</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O will ye gae to the school, brother?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will ye gae to the ba'?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye gae to the wood a-warslin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see whilk o's maun fa'?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's I winna gae to the school, brother;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will I gae to the ba'?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I will gae to the wood a-warslin;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it is you maun fa'."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They warstled up, they warstled down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lee-lang simmer's day;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">[And nane was near to part the strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That raise atween them tway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till out and Willie's drawn his sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And did his brother slay.]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lift me up upon your back;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tak me to yon wall fair;<!-- Page 222 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne they'll bleed nae mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ye'll tak aff my Hollin sark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And riv't frae gair to gair;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll stap it in my bluidy wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And syne they'll bleed nae mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's liftit his brother upon his back;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ta'en him to yon wall fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's washed his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ay they bled mair and mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he's ta'en aff his Hollin sark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And riven't frae gair to gair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's stappit it in his bluidy wounds;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ay they bled mair and mair.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll lift me up upon your back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tak me to <a name="LNanchor_III_1a_32" id="LNanchor_III_1a_32"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_1a_32" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Kirkland</a> fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll mak my greaf baith braid and lang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay my body there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll lay my arrows at my head,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bent bow at my feet;<!-- Page 223 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sword and buckler at my side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I was wont to sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whan ye gae hame to your father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'll speer for his son John:—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Learning the school alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When ye gae hame to my sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll speer for her brother John:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The green grass growin aboon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whan ye gae hame to my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll speer for her lord John:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But hame ye fear he'll never come."—<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's gane hame to his father;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He speered for his son John:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I left him into Kirkland fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Learning the school alone."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan he gaed hame to his sister,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She speered for her brother John:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I left him into Kirkland fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The green grass growin aboon."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whan he gaed hame to his true love,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 224 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span><span class="i2">She speer'd for her lord John:<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I left him into Kirkland fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hame I fear he'll never come."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But whaten bluid's that on your sword, Willie?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet Willie, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O it is the bluid o' my grey hounds;<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wadna rin for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's nae the bluid o' your hounds, Willie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their bluid was never so red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it is the bluid o' my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ye hae slain indeed."<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That fair may wept, that fair may mourn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That fair may mourn'd and pin'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When every lady looks for her love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I ne'er need look for mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whaten a death will ye die, Willie?<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now, Willie, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I'll gae sail the sea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whan will ye come hame again, Willie?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now, Willie, tell to me."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whan the sun and moon dances on the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that will never be."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_1a_32" id="Linenote_III_1a_32"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_1a_32" title="link to line number">32</a>. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, +was built of old by the abbot of Holyrood-house, for his +accommodation when he came to that country, and was +formerly the minister's manse." <i>Stat. Ac. of Scotland</i>, vol. +xiii. p. 506. J.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 225 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="EDWARD_EDWARD" id="EDWARD_EDWARD"></a>EDWARD, EDWARD.</h3> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"This curious Song was transmitted to the Editor +by Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes."</p></div> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Percy</span>, <i>Reliques</i>, i. 61.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Quhy dois zour brand sae drop w' bluid,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quhy dois zour brand sae drop wi' bluid,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And quhy sae sad gang zee O?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I hae killed my hauke sae guid,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I hae killed my hauke sae guid,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And I had nae mair bot hee O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My deir son I tell thee O."<!-- Page 226 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I hae killed my reid-roan steid,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I hae killed my reid-roan steid,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">That erst was sae fair and free O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sum other dule ze drie O."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I hae killed my fadir deir,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I hae killed my fadir deir,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Alas! and wae is mee O!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And quhatten penance wul ze drie, for that,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quhatten penance will ze drie for that?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My deir son, now tell me O."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ile set my feit in zonder boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ile set my feit in zonder boat,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Ile fare ovir the sea O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha',<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">That were sae fair to see O?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ile let thame stand til they doun fa',<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<!-- Page 227 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ile let thame stand til they doun fa',<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For here nevir mair maun I bee O."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Quhan ze gang ovir the sea O?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The warldis room, late them beg throw life,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warldis room, late them beg throw life,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For thame nevir mair wul I see O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Edward, Edward?<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My deir son, now tell me O."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Mither, mither:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sic counseils ze gave to me O."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 228 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SON_DAVIE_SON_DAVIE" id="SON_DAVIE_SON_DAVIE"></a>SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE.</h3> + + +<p class="center">From the recitation of an old woman. Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, +339.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What bluid's that on thy coat lap?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What bluid's that on thy coat lap?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth come tell to me O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is the bluid of my great hawk,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother lady! mother lady!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the bluid of my great hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth I hae tald to thee O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth come tell to me O."<!-- Page 229 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is the bluid o' my grey hound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother lady! mother lady!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the bluid of my grey hound,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it wudna rin for me O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth come tell to me O."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is the bluid o' my brother John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother lady! mother lady!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the bluid o' my brother John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth I hae tald to thee O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What about did the plea begin?<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It began about the cutting o' a willow wand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That would never hae been a tree O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What death dost thou desire to die?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What death dost thou desire to die?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the truth come tell to me O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother lady! mother lady!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye'll never see mair o' me O."<!-- Page 230 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Grief and sorrow all her life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she'll never get mair frae me O."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wilt thou leave to thy auld son?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The weary warld to wander up and down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he'll never get mair o' me O."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear?<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Son Davie! son Davie!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she'll never get mair o' me O."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 231 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_SISTER" id="THE_CRUEL_SISTER"></a>THE CRUEL SISTER.</h3> + + +<p>The earliest printed copy of this ballad is the curious +piece in <i>Wit Restor'd</i>, (1658,) called <i>The Miller +and the King's Daughter</i>, improperly said to be a parody, +by Jamieson and others. (See Appendix.) Pinkerton +inserted in his <i>Tragic Ballads</i>, (p. 72,) a ballad +on the subject, which preserves many genuine lines, +but is half his own composition. Complete versions +were published by Scott and Jamieson, and more recently +a third has been furnished in Sharpe's <i>Ballad +Book</i>, p. 30, and a fourth in Buchan's <i>Ballads of the +North of Scotland</i> (given at the end of this volume). +The burden of Mr. Sharpe's copy is nearly the same +as that of the <i>Cruel Mother</i>, <i>post</i>, p. 372. Jamieson's +copy had also this burden, but he exchanged it for the +more popular, and certainly more tasteful, <i>Binnorie</i>. +No ballad furnishes a closer link than this between the +popular poetry of England and that of the other +nations of Northern Europe. The same story is found +in Icelandic, Norse, Faroish, and Estnish ballads, as +well as in the Swedish and Danish, and a nearly related +one in many other ballads or tales, German, Polish, +Lithuanian, etc., etc.—See <i>Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, iii. +16, i. 81, 86, Arwidsson, ii. 139, and especially <i>Den +Talende Strengeleg</i>, Grundtvig, No. 95, and the notes +to <i>Der Singende Knochen</i>, <i>K. u. H. Märchen</i>, iii. 55, +ed. 1856.<!-- Page 232 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of the edition in the <i>Border Minstrelsy</i>, Scott gives +the following account, (iii. 287.)</p> + +<p>"It is compiled from a copy in Mrs. Brown's MSS., +intermixed with a beautiful fragment, of fourteen +verses, transmitted to the Editor by J. C. Walker, Esq. +the ingenious historian of the Irish bards. Mr. Walker, +at the same time, favored the Editor with the following +note: 'I am indebted to my departed friend, +Miss Brook, for the foregoing pathetic fragment. Her +account of it was as follows: This song was trans-scribed, +several years ago, from the memory of an old +woman, who had no recollection of the concluding +verses; probably the beginning may also be lost, as it +seems to commence abruptly.' The first verse and +burden of the fragment ran thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O sister, sister, reach thy hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey ho, my Nanny, O</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you shall be heir of all my land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>While the swan swims bonney, O</i>.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were two sisters sat in a bour;<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Bínnorie, O Bínnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a knight to be their wooer;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He courted the eldest with glove and ring,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he lo'ed the youngest abune a' thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 233 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He courted the eldest with broach and knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he lo'ed the youngest abune his life;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest she was vexed sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sore envied her sister fair;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest said to the youngest ane,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Will ye go and see our father's ships come in?"<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her by the lily hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led her down to the river strand;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The youngest stude upon a stane,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest came and pushed her in;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took her by the middle sma',<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dash'd her bonny back to the jaw;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 234 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, sister, reach your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye shall be heir of half my land."—<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, I'll not reach my hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll be heir of all your land;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Shame fa' the hand that I should take,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's twin'd me and my world's make."—<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, reach me but your glove,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweet William shall be your love."—<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove!<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweet William shall better be my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."—<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 235 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until she cam to the miller's dam;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O father, father, draw your dam!<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's either a mermaid, or a milk-white swan."<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The miller hasted and drew his dam,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he found a drown'd woman;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You could not see her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For gowd and pearls that were so rare;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You could not see her middle sma',<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her gowden girdle was sae bra';<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A famous harper passing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet pale face he chanced to spy;<br /></span> +<!-- Page 236 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span><span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he looked that lady on,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sigh'd and made a heavy moan;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He made a harp of her breast-bone,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The strings he framed of her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose notes made sad the listening ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He brought it to her father's hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there was the court assembled all;<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He laid his harp upon a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straight it began to play alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O yonder sits my father, the king,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yonder sits my mother, the queen;"<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i><!-- Page 237 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And yonder stands my brother Hugh,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by him my William, sweet and true."<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the last tune that the harp play'd then,<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was—"Woe to my sister, false Helen!"<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>By the bonny milldams of Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 238 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_TWA_SISTERS" id="THE_TWA_SISTERS"></a>THE TWA SISTERS.</h3> + + +<p><i>Verbatim</i> (with one interpolated stanza) from the +recitation of Mrs. Brown. Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, +i. 50.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was twa sisters liv'd in a bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bínnorie, O Bínnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a knight to be their wooer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he loved the youngest aboon a' thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He courted the eldest wi' broach and knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he loved the youngest as his life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 239 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest she was vexed sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sair envied her sister fair,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Intill her bower she coudna rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' grief and spite she maistly brast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon a morning fair and clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cried upon her sister dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, come to yon sea strand,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see our father's ships come to land,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en her by the milk-white hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led her down to yon sea strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The youngest stood upon a stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest came and threw her in,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 240 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took her by the middle sma'<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dashed her bonny back to the jaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, sister, tak my hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'se mak ye heir to a' my land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, sister, tak my middle,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye's get my goud and my gouden girdle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, sister, save my life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I swear I'se never be nae man's wife,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Foul fa' the hand that I should tak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It twin'd me o' my warldes mak,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your cherry cheeks and yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gars me gang maiden for evermair,"<br /></span> +<!-- Page 241 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she came to the mouth o' yon mill-dam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O out it came the miller's son,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the fair maid soummin in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O father, father, draw your dam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's either a mermaid or a swan,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[The miller quickly drew the dam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he found a drown'd woman,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And sair and lang mat their teen last,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wrought thee sic a dowie cast,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You coudna see her yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For goud and pearl that was sae rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 242 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You coudna see her middle sma<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For gouden girdle that was sae braw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You coudna see her fingers white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For gouden rings that were sae gryte,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by there came a harper fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That harped to the king at dine,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan he did look that lady upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sigh'd and made a heavy moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wi' them strung his harp sae fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first tune it did play and sing,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was, "Fareweel to my father the king,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<!-- Page 243 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nexten tune that it play'd seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was, "Fareweel to my mither the queen,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thirden tune that it play'd then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Binnorie, O Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was, "Wae to my sister, fair Ellen,"<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie</i>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 244 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_DONALD" id="LORD_DONALD"></a>LORD DONALD.</h3> + +<p class="center">Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 110.</p> + + +<p>Like the two which preceded it, this ballad is +common to the Gothic nations. It exists in a great +variety of forms. Two stanzas, recovered by Burns, +were printed in Johnson's <i>Museum</i>, i. 337; two others +were inserted by Jamieson, in his <i>Illustrations</i>, +p. 319. The <i>Border Minstrelsy</i> furnished five stanzas, +giving the <i>story</i>, without the bequests. Allan Cunningham's +alteration of Scott's version, (<i>Scottish Songs</i>, +i. 285,) has one stanza more. Kinloch procured from +the North of Scotland the following complete copy.</p> + +<p>In the Appendix, we have placed a nursery song on +the same subject, still familiar in Scotland, and translations +of the corresponding German and Swedish ballads—both +most remarkable cases of parallelism in +popular romance.</p> + +<p>Lord Donald, as Kinloch remarks, would seem to +have been poisoned by eating toads prepared as fishes. +Scott, in his introduction to <i>Lord Randal</i>, has quoted +from an old chronicle, a fabulous account of the poisoning +of King John by means of a cup of ale, in which +the venom of this reptile had been infused.<!-- Page 245 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I've been awa courtin':—mither, mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I've gotten my supper:—mither, mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A dish of sma' fishes:—mither, mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?"<!-- Page 246 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"In my father's black ditches:—mither, mak my bed sune,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Black backs and spreckl'd bellies:—mither, mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I fear ye are poison'd, my jollie young man!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O yes! I am poison'd:—mither mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son?<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Baith my houses and land:—mither, mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<!-- Page 247 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My horse and the saddle:—mither, mak my bed sune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Baith my gold box and rings:—mither, mak my bed sune,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 248 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_RANDAL_B" id="LORD_RANDAL_B"></a>LORD RANDAL (B).</h3> + +<p class="center">From <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, (iii. 49.)</p> + + +<p>Scott changed the name of the hero of this piece +from <i>Lord Ronald</i> to <i>Lord Randal</i>, on the authority of +a single copy. The change is unimportant, but the +reason will appear curious, if we remember that the +Swedes and Germans have the ballad as well as the +Scotch;—"because, though the circumstances are so +very different, I think it not impossible, that the ballad +may have originally regarded the death of Thomas +Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to +Robert Bruce, and governor of Scotland."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where hae ye been Lord Randal, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I hae been to the wild wood; mother make my bed soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."<!-- Page 249 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"—<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son!<!-- Page 250 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 251 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_BROTHER1" id="THE_CRUEL_BROTHER1"></a>THE CRUEL BROTHER: +<br /> +OR, +<br /> +THE BRIDE'S TESTAMENT.</h3> + + +<p>Of this ballad, which is still commonly recited and +sung in Scotland, four copies have been published. +The following is from Jamieson's collection, i. 66, +where it was printed <i>verbatim</i> after the recitation of +Mrs. Arrott. A copy from Aytoun's collection is subjoined, +which is nearly the same as a less perfect one +in Herd, i. 149, and the fourth, from Gilbert's <i>Ancient +Christmas Carols</i>, &c., is in the Appendix to this volume.</p> + +<p>The conclusion, or testamentary part, occurs very +frequently in ballads, e. g. <i>Den lillas Testamente</i>, <i>Svenska +Folk-Visor</i>, No. 68, translated in the Appendix to +this volume, the end of <i>Den onde Svigermoder, Danske +Viser</i>, i. 261, translated in <i>Illustrations of Northern +Antiquities</i>, p. 344, <i>Möen paa Baalet</i>, Grundtvig, No. +109, A, st. 18-21, and <i>Kong Valdemar og hans Söster</i>, +Grundtvig, No. 126, A, st. 101-105. See also <i>Edward</i>, +and <i>Lord Donald</i>, p. 225, p. 244.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was three ladies play'd at the ba',<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a knight, and play'd o'er them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<!-- Page 252 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest was baith tall and fair,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the youngest was beyond compare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The midmost had a gracefu' mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the youngest look'd like beauty's queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The knight bow'd low to a' the three,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to the youngest he bent his knee,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady turned her head aside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight he woo'd her to be his bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady blush'd a rosy red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "Sir knight, I'm o'er young to wed,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lady fair, give me your hand,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll mak you ladie of a' my land,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<!-- Page 253 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir knight, ere you my favor win,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye maun get consent frae a' my kin,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has got consent fra her parents dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And likewise frae her sisters fair,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has got consent frae her kin each one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But forgot to speer at her brother John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, when the wedding day was come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight would take his bonny bride home,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And many a lord and many a knight,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came to behold that lady bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there was nae man that did her see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wished himself bridegroom to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<!-- Page 254 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father dear led her down the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her sisters twain they kiss'd her there,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her mother dear led her through the close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her brother John set her on her horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lean'd her o'er the saddle-bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give him a kiss ere she did go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has ta'en a knife, baith lang and sharp,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stabb'd the bonny bride to the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna ridden half thro' the town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until her heart's blood stained her gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride saftly on," said the best young man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For I think our bonny bride looks pale and wan,"<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<!-- Page 255 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lead me gently up yon hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll there sit down, and make my will,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what will you leave to your father dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The silver-shod steed that brought me here,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will you leave to your mother dear?"<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My velvet pall and silken gear,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what will ye leave to your sister Ann?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My silken scarf, and my golden fan,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your sister Grace?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My bloody cloaths to wash and dress,"<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your brother John?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The gallows-tree to hang him on,"<br /></span> +<!-- Page 256 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye leave to your brother John's wife?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The wilderness to end her life,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This fair lady in her grave was laid,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a mass was o'er her said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But it would have made your heart right sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay</i>;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the bridegroom rive his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the primrose spreads so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 257 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_BROTHER2" id="THE_CRUEL_BROTHER2"></a>THE CRUEL BROTHER.</h3> + + +<p>From Aytoun's <i>Ballads of Scotland</i> (2d ed.), i. 232, +"taken down from recitation." Found also, but with +several stanzas wanting, in Herd's <i>Scottish Songs</i>, i. +149. The title in both collections is <i>Fine Flowers i' +the Valley</i>. This part of the refrain is found in one +of the versions of the <i>Cruel Mother</i>, p. 269. To +Herd's copy are annexed two fragmentary stanzas +with nearly the same burden as that of the foregoing +ballad.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She louted down to gie a kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a hey and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stuck his penknife in her hass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the rose it smells so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride up, ride up," cry'd the foremost man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a hey and a lily gay</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I think our bride looks pale and wan,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the rose it smells so sweetly</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were three sisters in a ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came three lords amang them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The red, green, and the yellow</i>.<!-- Page 258 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first o' them was clad in red,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O lady, will ye be my bride?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The second o' them was clad in green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O lady, will ye be my queen?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third o' them was clad in yellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O lady, will ye be my marrow?"<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O ye maun ask my father dear,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Likewise the mother that did me bear,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ye maun ask my sister Ann,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And not forget my brother John,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I have asked thy father dear,"<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Likewise the mother that did thee bear,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<!-- Page 259 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I have asked your sister Ann,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But I forgot your brother John;"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now when the wedding-day was come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight would take his bonny bride home,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And mony a lord, and mony a knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cam to behold that lady bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was nae man that did her see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wished himsell bridegroom to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father led her down the stair,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her sisters twain they kissed her there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her mother led her through the close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her brother John set her on her horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<!-- Page 260 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You are high and I am low,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Give me a kiss before you go,"<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was louting down to kiss him sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When wi' his knife he wounded her deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna ridden through half the town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until her heart's blood stained her gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride saftly on," said the best young man,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I think our bride looks pale and wan!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lead me over into yon stile,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That I may stop and breathe awhile,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lead me over into yon stair,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For there I'll lie and bleed nae mair,"<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<!-- Page 261 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what will you leave to your father dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The siller-shod steed that brought me here,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will you leave to your mother dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My velvet pall, and my pearlin' gear,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will you leave to your sister Ann?"<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My silken gown that stands its lane,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will you leave to your sister Grace?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My bluidy shirt to wash and dress,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will you leave to your brother John?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers i' the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The gates o' hell to let him in,"<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wi' the red, green, and the yellow</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 262 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LADY_ANNE" id="LADY_ANNE"></a>LADY ANNE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 18.</p> + + +<p>"This ballad was communicated to me by Mr. Kirkpatrick +Sharpe of Hoddom, who mentions having copied +it from an old magazine. Although it has probably +received some modern corrections, the general turn +seems to be ancient, and corresponds with that of a +fragment which I have often heard sung in my childhood."</p> + +<p>The version to which Sir Walter Scott refers, and +part of which he proceeds to quote, had been printed +in Johnson's <i>Museum</i>. It is placed immediately after +the present, with other copies of the ballad from Motherwell +and Kinloch.</p> + +<p>In Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i> there +are two more, which are repeated with slight variations +in the XVII. Vol. of the Percy Society, p. 46, +p. 50. Both will be found in the Appendix. The +copy in Buchan's <i>Gleanings</i>, p. 90, seems to be taken +from Scott. Smith's <i>Scottish Minstrel</i>, iv. 33, affords +still another variety.</p> + +<p>In German, <i>Die Kindesmörderin</i>, Erk's <i>Liederhort</i>, +No. 41, five copies; Erlach, iv. 148; Hoffmann, <i>Schlesische +V. L.</i>, No. 31, 32; <i>Wunderhorn</i>, ii. 202; Zuccalmaglio, +No. 97; Meinert, No. 81; Simrock, p. 87. +(But some of these are repetitions.) Wendish, Haupt +and Schmaler, I. No. 292, and with considerable differences, +I. No. 290, II. 197. This last reference is +taken from Grundtvig, ii. 531.<!-- Page 263 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Lady Anne sate in her bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down by the greenwood side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the flowers did spring, and the birds did sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas the pleasant May-day tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But fair Lady Anne on Sir William call'd,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the tear grit in her ee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O though thou be fause, may Heaven thee guard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the wars ayont the sea!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the wood came three bonnie boys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the simmer's morn,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they did sing and play at the ba',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As naked as they were born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O seven lang years wad I sit here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Amang the frost and snaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A' to hae but ane o' these bonnie boys,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A playing at the ba'."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spake the eldest boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Now listen, thou fair ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ponder well the rede that I tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then make ye a choice of the three.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that ane, sae fair to see,<!-- Page 264 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a twelve-month sinsyne to paradise came,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To join with our companie."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I will hae the snaw-white boy,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bonniest of the three."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And if I were thine, and in thy propine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O what wad ye do to me?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Tis I wad clead thee in silk and gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And nourice thee on my knee."—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O mither! mither! when I was thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sic kindness I couldna see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Beneath the turf, where now I stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fause nurse buried me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cruel penknife sticks still in my heart,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I come not back to thee."—<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 265 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="FINE_FLOWERS_IN_THE_VALLEY" id="FINE_FLOWERS_IN_THE_VALLEY"></a>FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Johnson's <i>Musical Museum</i>, p. 331.</p> + + +<p class="center">The first line of the burden is found also in <i>The Cruel +Brother</i>, p. 258.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sat down below a thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she has her sweet babe born,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's taen out her little penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<!-- Page 266 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she's buried her sweet babe in,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she was going to the church,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw a sweet babe in the porch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sweet babe, and thou were mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mother dear, when I was thine,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Fine flowers in the valley</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye did na prove to me sae kind,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the green leaves they grow rarely</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 267 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_MOTHER1" id="THE_CRUEL_MOTHER1"></a>THE CRUEL MOTHER.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 161.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She leaned her back unto a thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Three, three, and three by three</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she has her two babes born,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Three, three, and thirty-three</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she bound them hand and foot.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has ta'en out her wee penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she ended baith their life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has howked a hole baith deep and wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has put them in baith side by side.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has covered them o'er wi' a marble stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking she would gang maiden hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she was walking by her father's castle wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw twa pretty babes playing at the ba'.<!-- Page 268 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bonnie babes! gin ye were mine,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would dress you up in satin fine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I would dress you in the silk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wash you ay in morning milk!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cruel mother! we were thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou made us to wear the twine.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cursed mother! heaven's high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that's where thou will ne'er win nigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cursed mother! hell is deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there thou'll enter step by step."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 269 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_MOTHER2" id="THE_CRUEL_MOTHER2"></a>THE CRUEL MOTHER.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 46.</p> + + +<p>Three stanzas of a Warwickshire version closely +resembling Kinloch's are given in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, +vol. viii. p. 358.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There lives a lady in London—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's gane wi' bairn to the clerk's son—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has tane her mantel her about—<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's gane aff to the gude greenwud—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has set her back until an aik—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">First it bowed, and syne it brake—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has set her back until a brier—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<!-- Page 270 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bonnie were the twa boys she did bear—<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But out she's tane a little penknife—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's parted them and their sweet life—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's aff unto her father's ha'—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She seem'd the lealest maiden amang them a'—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she lookit our the castle wa'—<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She spied twa bonnie boys playing at the ba'—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O an thae twa babes were mine"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They should wear the silk and the sabelline"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mother dear, when we were thine,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"We neither wore the silks nor the sabelline"—<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But out ye took a little penknife"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<!-- Page 271 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"An ye parted us and our sweet life"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But now we're in the heavens hie"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>All alone, and alonie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And ye have the pains o' hell to dree"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<h3><a name="MAY_COLVIN_OR_FALSE_SIR_JOHN" id="MAY_COLVIN_OR_FALSE_SIR_JOHN"></a>MAY COLVIN, OR FALSE SIR JOHN.</h3> + + +<p>In the very ancient though corrupted ballads of +<i>Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight</i>, and <i>The Water o' +Wearie's Well</i> (vol. i. p. 195, 198), an Elf or a Merman +occupies the place here assigned to False Sir +John. Perhaps <i>May Colvin</i> is the result of the same +modernizing process by which <i>Hynde Etin</i> has been +converted into <i>Young Hastings the Groom</i> (vol. i. p. +294, 189). The coincidence of the name with <i>Clerk +Colvill</i>, in vol. i. p. 192, may have some significance. +This, however, would not be the opinion of Grundtvig, +who regards the Norse and German ballads resembling +<i>Lady Isabel</i>, &c., as compounded of two independent +stories. If this be so, then we should rather say that +a ballad similar to <i>May Colvin</i> has been made to furnish +the conclusion to the pieces referred to.<!-- Page 272 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<p>The story of this ballad has apparently some connection +with <i>Bluebeard</i>, but it is hard to say what the +connection is. (See <i>Fitchers Vogel</i> in the Grimms' <i>K. +u. H.-Märchen</i>, No. 46, and notes.) The versions of +the ballad in other languages are all but innumerable: +e. g. <i>Röfvaren Rymer</i>, <i>Röfvaren Brun</i>, <i>Svenska F.-V.</i>, +No. 82, 83; <i>Den Falske Riddaren</i>, Arwidsson, No. 44; +<i>Ulrich und Aennchen</i>, <i>Schön Ulrich u. Roth-Aennchen</i>, +<i>Schön Ulrich und Rautendelein</i>, <i>Ulinger</i>, <i>Herr +Halewyn</i>, etc., in <i>Wunderhorn</i>, i. 274; Uhland, 141-157 +(four copies); Erk, <i>Liederhort</i>, 91, 93; Erlach, +iii. 450; Zuccalmaglio, <i>Deutsche Volkslieder</i>, No. 15; +Hoffmann, <i>Schlesische Volkslieder</i>, No. 12, 13, and +<i>Niederländische Volkslieder</i>, No. 9, 10; etc. etc. A +very brief Italian ballad will be found in the Appendix, +p. 391, which seems to have the same theme. In +some of the ballads the treacherous seducer is an enchanter, +who prevails upon the maid to go with him +by the power of a spell.</p> + +<p><i>May Colvin</i> was first published in Herd's Collection, +vol. i. 153. The copy here given is one obtained from +recitation by Motherwell, (<i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 67,) collated +by him with that of Herd. It is defective at the end. +The other versions in Sharpe's <i>Ballad Book</i>, p. 45, +and Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 45, +though they are provided with some sort of conclusion, +are not worth reprinting. A modernized version, +styled <i>The Outlandish Knight</i>, is inserted in the Notes +to <i>Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads</i>, +Percy Society, vol. xvii. 101.</p> + +<p>Carlton Castle, on the coast of Carrick, is affirmed +by the country people, according to Mr. Chambers, to +have been the residence of the perfidious knight, and<!-- Page 273 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +a precipice overhanging the sea, called "Fause Sir +John's Loup," is pointed out as the place where he was +wont to drown his wives. May Colvin is equally well +ascertained to have been "a daughter of the family of +Kennedy of Colzean, now represented by the Earl of +Cassilis." Buchan's version assigns a different locality +to the transaction—that of "Binyan's Bay," which, +says the editor, is the old name of the mouth of the +river Ugie.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">False Sir John a wooing came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To a maid of beauty fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Colvin was the lady's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her father's only heir.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's courted her butt, and he's courted her ben,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he's courted her into the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till once he got this lady's consent<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To mount and ride awa'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's gane to her father's coffers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where all his money lay;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's taken the red, and she's left the white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so lightly as she tripped away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's gane down to her father's stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where all his steeds did stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's taken the best, and she's left the warst,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was in her father's land.<!-- Page 274 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He rode on, and she rode on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They rode a lang simmer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they came to a broad river,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An arm of a lonesome sea.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Loup off the steed," says false Sir John;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Your bridal bed you see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it's seven king's daughters I have drowned here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the eighth I'll out make with thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cast off, cast off your silks so fine,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay them on a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they are o'er good and o'er costly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To rot in the salt sea foam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cast off, cast off your Holland smock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay it on this stone,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is too fine and o'er costly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To rot in the salt sea foam."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O turn you about, thou false Sir John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And look to the leaf o' the tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it never became a gentleman<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A naked woman to see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's turn'd himself straight round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To look to the leaf o' the tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's twined her arms about his waist,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 275 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span><span class="i2">And thrown him into the sea.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hold a grip of me, May Colvin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For fear that I should drown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll take you hame to your father's gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And safely I'll set you down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lie you there, thou false Sir John,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O lie you there," said she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For you lie not in a caulder bed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than the ane you intended for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So she went on her father's steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As swift as she could flee,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she came hame to her father's gates<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the breaking of the day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then spake the pretty parrot:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"May Colvin, where have you been?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What has become of false Sir John,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wooed you so late yestreen?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then spake the pretty parrot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the bonnie cage where it lay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O what hae ye done with the false Sir John,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he behind you does stay?<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He wooed you butt, he wooed you ben,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wooed you into the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he got your own consent<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to mount and gang awa'."<!-- Page 276 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay not the blame upon me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your cage will be made of the beaten gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the spakes of ivorie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up then spake the king himself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the chamber where he lay:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O what ails the pretty parrot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That prattles so long ere day?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was a cat cam to my cage door;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I thought 't would have worried me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I was calling on fair May Colvin<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To take the cat from me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 277 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BABYLON" id="BABYLON"></a>BABYLON, +<br /> +OR, +<br /> +THE BONNIE BANKS O' FORDIE.</h3> + + +<p>"This ballad is given from two copies obtained from +recitation, which differ but little from each other. Indeed, +the only variation is in the verse where the +outlawed brother unweetingly slays his sister. One +reading is,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'He's taken out his wee penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey how bonnie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's twined her o' her ain sweet life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The other reading is that adopted in the text. This +ballad is popular in the southern parishes of Perthshire: +but where the scene is laid the editor has been +unable to ascertain. Nor has any research of his enabled +him to throw farther light on the history of its +hero with the fantastic name, than what the ballad +itself supplies." Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 88.</p> + +<p>Another version is subjoined, from Kinloch's collection.</p> + +<p>This ballad is found in Danish; <i>Herr Truels's Doettre</i>, +<i>Danske Viser</i>, No. 164. In a note the editor endeavors +to show that the story is based on fact!<!-- Page 278 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were three ladies lived in a bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they went out to pull a flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hadna pu'ed a flower but ane,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up started to them a banisht man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en the first sister by her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's turned her round and made her stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye die by my wee penknife,"<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's I'll not be a rank robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll rather die by your wee penknife,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's killed this may and he's laid her by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to bear the red rose company,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<!-- Page 279 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taken the second ane by the hand,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's turned her round and made her stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye die by my wee penknife,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll not be a rank robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll rather die by your wee penknife,"<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's killed this may and he's laid her by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to bear the red rose company,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taken the youngest ane by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's turned her round and made her stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "Will ye be a rank robber's wife,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye die by my wee penknife,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>?<!-- Page 280 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll not be a rank robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I die by your wee penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For I hae a brother in this wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gin ye kill me, it's he'll kill thee,"<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What's thy brother's name? come tell to me,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My brother's name is Babylon,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, sister, what have I done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O have I done this ill to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O since I've done this evil deed,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good sall never be seen o' me,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taken out his wee penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Eh vow bonnie</i>,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's twyned himsel o' his ain sweet life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On the bonnie banks o' Fordie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 281 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="DUKE_OF_PERTHS_THREE_DAUGHTERS" id="DUKE_OF_PERTHS_THREE_DAUGHTERS"></a>DUKE OF PERTH'S THREE DAUGHTERS.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Kinloch's <i>Ancient Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 212.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Duke o' Perth had three daughters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Elizabeth's to the greenwud gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pu' the rose and the fair lilie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But she hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A double rose, but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan up and started a Loudon lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will ye be called a robber's wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Before I'll be called a robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free."<!-- Page 282 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out he's tane his little penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he's parted her and her sweet life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrown her o'er a bank o' brume,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There never more for to be found.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Duke o' Perth had three daughters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Margaret's to the greenwud gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pu' the rose and the fair lilie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A double rose, but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up and started a Loudon lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will ye be called a robber's wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Before I'll be called a robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll rather be sticket wi' your bloody knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out he's tane his little penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he's parted her and her sweet life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 283 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span><span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Duke o' Perth had three daughters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mary's to the greenwud gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pu' the rose and the fair lilie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A double rose, but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up and started a Loudon lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O will ye be called a robber's wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife?<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Before I'll be called a robber's wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For pu'in them sae fair and free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But just as he took out his knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To tak frae her her ain sweet life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her brother John cam ryding bye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And this bloody robber he did espy.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when he saw his sister fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He kenn'd her by her yellow hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He call'd upon his pages three,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To find this robber speedilie.<!-- Page 284 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My sisters twa that are dead and gane,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For whom we made a heavy maene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's you that's twinn'd them o' their life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wi' your cruel bloody knife.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then for their life ye sair shall dree:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye sall be hangit on a tree,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thrown into the poison'd lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To feed the toads and rattle-snake."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 285 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="JELLON_GRAME" id="JELLON_GRAME"></a>JELLON GRAME.</h3> + +<p class="center">From <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 162.</p> + + +<p>"This ballad is published from tradition, with some +conjectural emendations. It is corrected by a copy in +Mrs. Brown's MS., from which it differs in the concluding +stanzas. Some verses are apparently modernized.</p> + +<p>"<i>Jellon</i> seems to be the same name with <i>Jyllian</i>, or +<i>Julian</i>. 'Jyl of Brentford's Testament' is mentioned +in Warton's <i>History of Poetry</i>, vol. ii. p. 40. The +name repeatedly occurs in old ballads, sometimes as +that of a man, at other times as that of a woman. Of +the former is an instance in the ballad of <i>The Knight +and the Shepherd's Daughter</i>. [See this collection, +vol. iii. p. 253.]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Some do call me Jack, sweetheart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some do call me <i>Jille</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Witton Gilbert, a village four miles west of Durham, +is, throughout the bishopric, pronounced Witton +Jilbert. We have also the common name of Giles, +always in Scotland pronounced Jill. For Gille, or<!-- Page 286 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +Juliana, as a female name, we have <i>Fair Gillian</i> of +Croyden, and a thousand authorities. Such being the +case, the Editor must enter his protest against the conversion +of <i>Gil</i> Morrice into <i>Child</i> Maurice, an epithet +of chivalry. All the circumstances in that ballad argue, +that the unfortunate hero was an obscure and very +young man, who had never received the honour of +knighthood. At any rate there can be no reason, +even were internal evidence totally wanting, for altering +a well-known proper name, which, till of late years, +has been the uniform title of the ballad." <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<p><i>May-a-Row</i>, in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 231, is +another, but an inferior, version of this ballad.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Jellon Grame sat in <a name="LNanchor_III_8_1" id="LNanchor_III_8_1"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_8_1" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Silverwood</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He sharp'd his broadsword lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he has call'd his little foot-page<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An errand for to gang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Win up, my bonny boy," he says,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"As quickly as ye may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the break of day."<!-- Page 287 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boy has buckled his belt about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And through the green-wood ran;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he came to the ladye's bower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the day did dawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The red sun's on the rain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye're bidden come to Silverwood,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I doubt ye'll never win hame."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna ridden a mile, a mile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mile but barely three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere she came to a new-made grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath a green aik tree.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O then up started Jellon Grame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of a bush thereby;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For it's here that ye maun lye."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lighted aff her milk-white steed,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kneel'd upon her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For I'm no prepared to die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your bairn, that stirs between my sides,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Maun shortly see the light:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to see it weltering in my blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would be a piteous sight."<!-- Page 288 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O should I spare your life," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Until that bairn were born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full weel I ken your auld father<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would hang me on the morn."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O spare my life, now, Jellon Grame!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My father ye needna dread:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll keep my babe in gude green-wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or wi' it I'll beg my bread."—<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He took no pity on Lillie Flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though she for life did pray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But pierced her through the fair body<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As at his feet she lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where she was lying dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he felt some for the bonny bairn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lay weltering in her bluid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up has he ta'en that bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Given him to nurses nine;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three to sleep, and three to wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And three to go between.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he bred up that bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Call'd him his sister's son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he thought no eye could ever see<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The deed that he had done.<!-- Page 289 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O so it fell upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When hunting they might be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rested them in Silverwood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath that green aik tree.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And many were the green-wood flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the grave that grew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And marvell'd much that bonny boy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see their lovely hue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What's paler than the prymrose wan?<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">What's redder than the rose?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's fairer than the lilye flower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On this wee know that grows?"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O out and answer'd Jellon Grame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he spak hastilie—<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Your mother was a fairer flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lies beneath this tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"More pale she was, when she sought my grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than prymrose pale and wan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That down my broadsword ran."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi' that the boy has bent his bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was baith stout and lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An thro' and thro' him, Jellon Grame,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 290 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span><span class="i2">He gar'd an arrow gang.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says,—"Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My malisoun gang you wi'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The place that my mother lies buried in<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is far too good for thee."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_8_1" id="Linenote_III_8_1"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_8_1" title="link to line number">1</a>. Silverwood, mentioned in this ballad, occurs in a medley +MS. song, which seems to have been copied from the first +edition of the Aberdeen Cantus, <i>penes</i> John G. Dalyell, Esq. +advocate. One line only is cited, apparently the beginning +of some song:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Silverwood, gin ye were mine." <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p></div> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 291 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="YOUNG_JOHNSTONE" id="YOUNG_JOHNSTONE"></a>YOUNG JOHNSTONE.</h3> + + +<p>A fragment of this fine ballad (which is commonly +called <i>The Cruel Knight</i>) was published by Herd, +(i. 222,) and also by Pinkerton, (<i>Select Scottish Ballads</i>, +i. 69,) with variations. Finlay constructed a +nearly complete edition from two recited copies, but +suppressed some lines. (<i>Scottish Ballads</i>, ii. 72.) The +present copy is one which Motherwell obtained from +recitation, with a few verbal emendations by that +editor from Finlay's.</p> + +<p>With respect to the sudden and strange catastrophe, +Motherwell remarks:—</p> + +<p>"The reciters of old ballads frequently supply the +best commentaries upon them, when any obscurity or +want of connection appears in the poetical narrative. +This ballad, as it stands, throws no light on young +Johnstone's motive for stabbing his lady; but the person +from whose lips it was taken down alleged that the +barbarous act was committed unwittingly, through +young Johnstone's suddenly waking from sleep, and, in +that moment of confusion and alarm, unhappily mistaking +his mistress for one of his pursuers. It is not +improbable but the ballad may have had, at one time,<!-- Page 292 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +a stanza to the above effect, the substance of which is +still remembered, though the words in which it was +couched have been forgotten." <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 193.</p> + +<p>Buchan's version, (<i>Lord John's Murder</i>, ii. 20,) it +will be seen, supplies this deficiency.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Johnstone and the young Col'nel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat drinking at the wine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O gin ye wad marry my sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's I wad marry thine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wadna marry your sister,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' your houses and land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll keep her for my leman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I come o'er the strand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wadna marry your sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' your gowd so gay;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll keep her for my leman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I come by the way."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Johnstone had a nut-brown sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hung low down by his gair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he <a name="LNanchor_III_9_15" id="LNanchor_III_9_15"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_9_15" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">ritted</a> it through the young Col'nel,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That word he ne'er spak mair.<!-- Page 293 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he's awa' to his sister's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's tirled at the pin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whare hae ye been, my dear brither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae late a coming in?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I hae been at the school, sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Learning young clerks to sing."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've dreamed a dreary dream this night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish it may be for good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the young Col'nel was dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hawks and hounds they may seek me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I trow well they be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I have killed the young Col'nel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thy own true love was he."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dule and wae is me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hae nae power to flee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he's awa' to his true love's bower,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's tirled at the pin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae late a coming in?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I hae been at the school," he says,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 294 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span><span class="i2">"Learning young clerks to sing."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I wish it may be for good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the young Col'nel was dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hawks and hounds they may seek me,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I trow well they be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I hae killed the young Col'nel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thy ae brother was he."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dule and wae is me;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I care the less for the young Col'nel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If thy ain body be free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come in and take a sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will go to my casement,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And carefully I will thee keep."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had not weel been in her bower door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No not for half an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When four-and-twenty belted knights<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came riding to the bower.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Well may you sit and see, Lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well may you sit and say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did you not see a bloody squire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come riding by this way?"<!-- Page 295 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What colour were his hawks?" she says,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What colour were his hounds?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What colour was the gallant steed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bore him from the bounds?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bloody, bloody were his hawks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bloody were his hounds;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But milk-white was the gallant steed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bore him from the bounds."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bloody were his hounds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And milk-white was the gallant steed<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bore him from the bounds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Light down, light down now, gentlemen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And take some bread and wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the steed be swift that he rides on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's past the brig o' Lyne."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We thank you for your bread, fair Lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We thank you for your wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bloody knight was ta'en."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lie still and take a sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thy enemies are past and gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And carefully I will thee keep."<!-- Page 296 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But young Johnstone had a little wee sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hung low down by his gair,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A deep wound and a sair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What aileth thee at me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou not got my father's gold,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><a name="LNanchor_III_9_96" id="LNanchor_III_9_96"></a><a href="#Linenote_III_9_96" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">Bot and my mither's fee?"</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now live, now live, my dear Ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now live but half an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there's no a leech in a' Scotland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But shall be in thy bower."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How can I live, how shall I live?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Young Johnstone, do not you see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red, red drops o' my bonny heart's blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rin trinkling down my knee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But take thy harp into thy hand,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And harp out owre yon plain,<!-- Page 297 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ne'er think mair on thy true love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than if she had never been."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hadna weel been out o' the stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And on his saddle set,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till four-and-twenty broad arrows<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were thrilling in his heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_III_9_15" id="Linenote_III_9_15"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_9_15" title="link to line number">15</a>. In the copy obtained by the Editor, the word "ritted" +did not occur, instead of which the word "stabbed" was +used. The "nut-brown sword" was also changed into "a +little small sword." <span class="smcap">Motherwell.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_III_9_96" id="Linenote_III_9_96"></a><a href="#LNanchor_III_9_96" title="link to line number">96</a>. Buchan's version furnishes the necessary explanation +of Young Johnstone's apparent cruelty:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ohon, alas, my lady gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To come sae hastilié!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought it was my deadly foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye had trysted in to me."<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 298 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="YOUNG_BENJIE" id="YOUNG_BENJIE"></a>YOUNG BENJIE.</h3> + + +<p>From the <i>Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border</i>, iii. 10. +<i>Bondsey and Maisry</i>, another version of the same +story, from Buchan's collection, is given in the +Appendix.</p> + +<p>"In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular +superstition, not yet altogether discredited in the +wilder parts of Scotland. The lykewake, or watching +a dead body, in itself a melancholy office, is rendered, +in the idea of the assistants, more dismally awful, by +the mysterious horrors of superstition. In the interval +betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is +supposed to hover round its mortal habitation, and, if +invoked by certain rites, retains the power of communicating, +through its organs, the cause of its dissolution. +Such inquiries, however, are always dangerous, and +never to be resorted to, unless the deceased is suspected +to have suffered <i>foul play</i>, as it is called. It is the +more unsafe to tamper with this charm in an unauthorized +manner, because the inhabitants of the infernal +regions are, at such periods, peculiarly active. +One of the most potent ceremonies in the charm, for<!-- Page 299 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the door ajar, +or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland +sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar, while a +corpse lies in the house. The door must either be left +wide open, or quite shut; but the first is always preferred, +on account of the exercise of hospitality usual +on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise +careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, +or, if it is left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superstitious +horror, the first sight of it.</p> + +<p>"The following story, which is frequently related by +the peasants of Scotland, will illustrate the imaginary +danger of leaving the door ajar. In former times, a +man and his wife lived in a solitary cottage, on one of +the extensive Border fells. One day the husband +died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid of +staying alone by the corpse, or leaving the dead body +by itself, repeatedly went to the door, and looked anxiously +over the lonely moor for the sight of some person +approaching. In her confusion and alarm she accidentally +left the door ajar, when the corpse suddenly +started up, and sat in the bed, frowning and grinning +at her frightfully. She sat alone, crying bitterly, unable +to avoid the fascination of the dead man's eye, and +too much terrified to break the sullen silence, till a +Catholic priest, passing over the wild, entered the cottage. +He first set the door quite open, then put his +little finger in his mouth, and said the paternoster backwards; +when the horrid look of the corpse relaxed, it +fell back on the bed, and behaved itself as a dead man +ought to do.</p> + +<p>"The ballad is given from tradition. I have been +informed by a lady, [Miss Joanna Baillie,] of the highest +literary eminence, that she has heard a ballad on<!-- Page 300 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +the same subject, in which the scene was laid upon the +banks of the Clyde. The chorus was,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"O Bothwell banks bloom bonny,"</p></div> + +<p>and the watching of the dead corpse was said to have +taken place in Bothwell church." <span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest was Marjorie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And young Benjie was her ae true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a dear true love was he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And wow but they were lovers dear,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And loved fu' constantlie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But aye the mair when they fell out,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sairer was their plea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And they hae quarrell'd on a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Marjorie's heart grew wae;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she said she'd chuse another luve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let young Benjie gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he was stout, and proud-hearted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thought o't bitterlie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's gane by the wan moonlight,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To meet his Marjorie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O open, open, my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O open, and let me in!"<!-- Page 301 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I darena open, young Benjie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My three brothers are within."—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae loud's I hear ye lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I came by the Lowden banks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They bade gude e'en to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But fare ye weel, my ae fause love,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I have loved sae lang!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sets ye chuse another love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And let young Benjie gang."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Marjorie turn'd her round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tear blinding her ee,—<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I darena, darena let thee in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'll come down to thee."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then saft she smiled, and said to him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O what ill hae I done?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took her in his armis twa,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And threw her o'er the linn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stream was strang, the maid was stout,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laith, laith to be dang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ere she wan the Lowden banks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her fair colour was wan.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up bespak her eldest brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O see na ye what I see?"<!-- Page 302 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out then spak her second brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"It's our sister Marjorie!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out then spak her eldest brother,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O how shall we her ken?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out then spak her youngest brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"There's a honey mark on her chin."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then they've ta'en up the comely corpse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laid it on the ground:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wha has killed our ae sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And how can he be found?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The night it is her low lykewake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The morn her burial day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we maun watch at mirk midnight,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hear what she will say."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi' doors ajar, and candle light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And torches burning clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The streikit corpse, till still midnight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They waked, but naething hear.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">About the middle o' the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cocks began to craw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the dead hour o' the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The corpse began to thraw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whae has done the wrang, sister,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or dared the deadly sin?<!-- Page 303 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whae was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thraw ye o'er the linn?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Young Benjie was the first ae man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I laid my love upon;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was sae stout and proud-hearted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He threw me o'er the linn."—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sall we young Benjie head, sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sall we young Benjie hang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sall we pike out his twa gray een,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And punish him ere he gang?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye maunna Benjie head, brothers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye maunna Benjie hang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye maun pike out his twa gray een,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And punish him ere he gang.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tie a green gravat round his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lead him out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the best ae servant about your house<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wait young Benjie on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And aye, at every seven years' end,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'l tak him to the linn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that's the penance he maun dree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To scug his deadly sin."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 305 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="APPENDIX" id="APPENDIX"></a>APPENDIX.</h2> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 307 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_BARNABY" id="LORD_BARNABY"></a>LORD BARNABY.</h3> + +<p class="center">Scottish version of <i>Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard</i>. +See p. 15.</p> + +<p class="center">From Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads and Songs</i>, i. 170.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have a tower in Dalisberry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which now is dearly dight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will gie it to young Musgrave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To lodge wi' me a' night."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To lodge wi' thee a' night, fair lady,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad breed baith sorrow and strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I see by the rings on your fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're good lord Barnaby's wife."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lord Barnaby's wife although I be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet what is that to thee?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we'll beguile him for this ae night—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's on to fair Dundee.<!-- Page 308 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come here, come here, my little foot-page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This gold I will give thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ye will keep thir secrets close<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tween young Musgrave and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But here I hae a little pen-knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hings low down by my gare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gin ye winna keep thir secrets close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll find it wonder sair."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then she's ta'en him to her chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And down in her arms lay he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boy coost aff his hose and shoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ran to fair Dundee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he cam to the wan water,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_1_26" id="LNanchor_IIIA_1_26"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_1_26" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">slack'd</a> his bow and swam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he cam to growin grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set down his feet and ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he cam to fair Dundee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad neither chap nor ca';<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But set his <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_1_31" id="LNanchor_IIIA_1_31"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_1_31" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">brent</a> bow to his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And merrily jump'd the wa'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waken, and come away!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What ails, what ails my wee foot-page,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He cries sae lang ere day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O is my bowers brent, my boy?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or is my castle won?<!-- Page 309 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or has the lady that I lo'e best<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brought me a daughter or son?"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your ha's are safe, your bowers are safe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And free frae all alarms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh! the lady that ye lo'e best<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lies sound in Musgrave's arms."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gae saddle to me the black," he cried,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Gae saddle to me the gray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hie me on my way."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lady, I heard a wee horn toot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it blew wonder clear;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ay the turning o' the note,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was, 'Barnaby will be here!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I thought I heard a wee horn blaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it blew loud and high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ay at ilka turn it said,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Away, Musgrave, away!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lie still, my dear; lie still, my dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye keep me frae the cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is but my father's shepherds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Driving their flocks to the fold."<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up they lookit, and down they lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they're fa'en sound asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till up stood good lord Barnaby,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just close at their bed feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How do you like my bed, Musgrave?<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And how like ye my sheets?<!-- Page 310 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how like ye my fair lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lies in your arms and sleeps?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Weel like I your bed, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And weel like I your sheets;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ill like I your fair lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lies in my arms and sleeps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You got your wale o' se'en sisters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I got mine o' five;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae tak ye mine, and I's tak thine,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we nae mair sall strive."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my woman's the best woman<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever brak world's bread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your woman's the worst woman<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever drew coat o'er head.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I hae twa swords in ae scabbert,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They are baith sharp and clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take ye the best, and I the warst,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we'll end the matter here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But up, and arm thee, young Musgrave,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We'll try it han' to han';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's ne'er be said o' lord Barnaby,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He strack at a naked man."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first straik that young Musgrave got,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was baith deep and sair;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down he fell at Barnaby's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And word spak never mair.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<!-- Page 311 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"A grave, a grave!" lord Barnaby cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"A grave to lay them in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lady shall lie on the sunny side,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because of her noble kin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But oh, how sorry was that good lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a' his angry mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whan he beheld his ain young son<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All welt'ring in his blood!<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_1_26" id="Linenote_IIIA_1_26"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_1_26" title="link to line number">26</a>. For <i>slack'd</i> read <i>bent</i>. J.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Note</span>. [In <a name="Linenote_IIIA_1_31" id="Linenote_IIIA_1_31"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_1_31" title="link to line number">v. 31</a>] the term "<i>braid</i> bow" has been altered +by the editor into "<i>brent</i> bow," i. e. <i>straight</i>, or <i>unbent</i> bow. +In most of the old ballads, where a page is employed as the +bearer of a message, we are told, that,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When he came to wan water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He <i>bent</i> his bow and swam;"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He set his <i>bent</i> bow to his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lightly lap the wa'," &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The application of the term <i>bent</i>, in the latter instance, does +not seem correct, and is probably substituted for <i>brent</i>.</p> + +<p>In the establishment of a feudal baron, every thing wore a +military aspect; he was a warrior by profession; every man +attached to him, particularly those employed about his person, +was a soldier; and his little foot-page was very appropriately +equipped in the light accoutrements of an archer. His +bow, in the old ballad, seems as inseparable from his character +as the bow of Cupid or of Apollo, or the caduceus of his celestial +prototype Mercury. This bow, which he carried unbent, +he seems to have <i>bent</i> when he had occasion to swim, in order +that he might the more easily carry it in his teeth, to prevent +the string from being injured by getting wet. At other times +he availed himself of its length and elasticity in the <i>brent</i>, or +straight state, and used it (as hunters do a leaping pole) in<!-- Page 312 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +vaulting over the wall of the outer court of a castle, when +his business would not admit of the tedious formality of +blowing a horn, or ringing a bell, and holding a long parley +with the porter at the gate, before he could gain admission. +This, at least, appears to the editor to be the meaning of these +passages in the old ballads. <span class="smcap">Jamieson.</span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 313 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHILDE_MAURICE_See_p_30" id="CHILDE_MAURICE_See_p_30"></a>CHILDE MAURICE. See p. <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads and Songs</i>, i. 8.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Childe Maurice hunted i' the <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_2_1" id="LNanchor_IIIA_2_1"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_2_1" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">silver</a> wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hunted it round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And noebody yt he found theren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor noebody without.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tooke his silver combe in his hand<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To kembe his yellow lockes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sayes, "come hither, thou litle footpage,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That runneth lowly by my knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ffor thou shalt goe to John Steward's wiffe,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 314 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span><span class="i2">And pray her speake with mee.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And as it ffalls <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_2_11" id="LNanchor_IIIA_2_11"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_2_11" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">out</a>, many times<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As knotts been knitt on a kell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or merchant men gone to leeve London,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Either to buy ware or sell,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grete thou doe that ladye well,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever soe well ffroe mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And as it ffalls out, many times<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As any harte can thinke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As schoole masters are in any schoole house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Writting with pen and inke,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ffor if I might as well as shee may,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This night I wold with her speake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And heere I send a mantle of greene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As greene as any grasse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="LNanchor_IIIA_2_25" id="LNanchor_IIIA_2_25"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_2_25" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And bid her come to the silver wood,</a><span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hunt with Child Maurice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And there I send her a ring of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A ring of precyous stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid her come to the silver wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let for no kind of man."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One while this litle boy he yode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Another while he ran;<!-- Page 315 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he came to John Steward's hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iwis he never blan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And of nurture the child had good;<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He ran up hall and bower ffree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he came to this lady ffaire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sayes, "God you save and see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I am come ffrom Childe Maurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A message unto thee,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Childe Maurice he greetes you well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ever soe well ffrom me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And as it ffalls out, oftentimes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As knotts been knitt on a kell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or merchant men gone to leeve London<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Either to buy or sell;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And as oftentimes he greetes you well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As any hart can thinke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or schoolemaster in any schoole,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wryting with pen and inke.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And heere he sends a mantle of greene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As greene as any grasse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he bidds you come to the silver wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hunt with child Maurice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And heere he sends you a ring of gold,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A ring of precyous stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He prayes you to come to the silver wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let for no kind of man."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now peace, now peace, thou litle fotpage,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 316 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span><span class="i0">Ffor Christes sake I pray thee;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ffor if my lord heare one of those words,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou must be hanged hye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">John Steward stood under the castle wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he wrote the words every one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he called unto his horssekeeper,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Make ready you my steede;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soe he did to his chamberlaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Make readye then my weed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he cast a lease upon his backe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he rode to the silver wood,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there he sought all about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About the silver wood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there he found him Childe Maurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sitting upon a blocke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a silver combe in his hand,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kembing his yellow locke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sayes, "how now, how now, Childe Maurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alacke how may this bee?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But then stood by him Childe Maurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sayd these words trulye:<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I do not know your ladye," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"If that I doe her see."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ffor thou hast sent her love tokens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">More now than two or three.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As greene as any grasse,<!-- Page 317 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bade her come to the silver wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hunt with Childe Maurice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And by my faith now, Childe Maurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tane of us shall dye;"<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now by my troth," sayd Childe Maurice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And that shall not be I."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he pulled out a bright browne sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dryed it on the grasse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soe fast he smote at John Steward,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iwis he never rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then hee pulled forth his bright browne sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dryed itt on his sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the ffirst good stroke John Steward stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Child Maurice head he did cleeve.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he pricked it on his swords poynt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went singing there beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he rode till he came to the ladye ffaire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whereas his ladye lyed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And sayes, "dost thou know Child Maurice head,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iff that thou dost it see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And llap it soft, and kisse itt offt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ffor thou lovedst him better than mee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shee never spake words but three:<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I never beare noe child but one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you have slain him trulye."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sayes, "wicked be my merry men all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I gave meate, drinke, and clothe;<!-- Page 318 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cold they not have holden me,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I was in all that wrath!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ffor I have slaine one of the courteousest knights<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever bestrode a steede;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soe have I done one of the fairest ladyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever ware womans weede."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_2_1" id="Linenote_IIIA_2_1"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_2_1" title="link to line number">1</a>. MS. silven. See vv. 25, 53, 70, 72.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_2_11" id="Linenote_IIIA_2_11"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_2_11" title="link to line number">11</a>. out out.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_2_25" id="Linenote_IIIA_2_25"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_2_25" title="link to line number">25</a>. Sic in MS.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="long" /> +<h3><a name="CLERK_SAUNDERS_See_p_45" id="CLERK_SAUNDERS_See_p_45"></a>CLERK SAUNDERS. See p. <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads and Songs</i>, i. 83.</p> + + +<p>"The following copy was transmitted by Mrs. Arrott +of Aberbrothick. The stanzas, where the seven +brothers are introduced, have been enlarged from two +fragments, which, although very defective in themselves, +furnished lines which, when incorporated with +the text, seemed to improve it. Stanzas 21 and 22, +were written by the editor; the idea of the <i>rose</i> being +suggested by the gentleman who recited, but who +could not recollect the language in which it was expressed."</p> + +<p>This copy of <i>Clerk Saunders</i> bears traces of having +been made up from several sources. A portion of the<!-- Page 319 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +concluding stanzas (v. 107-130) have a strong resemblance +to the beginning and end of <i>Proud Lady Margaret</i> +(vol. viii. 83, 278), which ballad is itself in a +corrupt condition. It may also be doubted whether +the fragments Jamieson speaks of did not belong to a +ballad resembling <i>Lady Maisry</i>, p. 78 of this volume.</p> + +<p>Accepting the ballad as it stands here, there is certainly +likeness enough in the first part to suggest a +community of origin with the Swedish ballad <i>Den +Grymma Brodern</i>, <i>Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, No. 86 (translated +in <i>Lit. and Rom. of Northern Europe</i>, p. 261). +W. Grimm mentions (<i>Altdän. Heldenl.</i>, p. 519) a +Spanish ballad, <i>De la Blanca Niña</i>, in the <i>Romancero +de Amberes</i>, in which the similarity to <i>Den Grymma +Brodern</i> is very striking. The series of questions (v. +30-62) sometimes appears apart from the story, and +with a comic turn, as in <i>Det Hurtige Svar</i>, <i>Danske V.</i>, +No. 204, or <i>Thore och hans Syster</i>, Arwidsson, i. 358. +In this shape they closely resemble the familiar old +song, <i>Our gudeman came hame at e'en</i>, Herd, <i>Scottish +Songs</i>, ii. 74.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk Saunders was an earl's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He liv'd upon sea-sand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Margaret was a king's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She liv'd in upper land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clerk Saunders was an earl's son,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weel learned at the scheel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Margaret was a king's daughter;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They baith lo'ed ither weel.<!-- Page 320 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's throw the dark, and throw the mark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And throw the leaves o' green;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he came to May Margaret's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tirled at the pin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sleep ye, wake ye, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or are ye the bower within?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wha is that at my bower door,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae weel my name does ken?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's I, Clerk Saunders, your true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You'll open and lat me in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O will ye to the cards, Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or to the table to dine?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or to the bed, that's weel down spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sleep when we get time."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'll no go to the cards," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor to the table to dine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll go to a bed, that's weel down spread,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sleep when we get time."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They were not weel lyen down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And no weel fa'en asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When up and stood May Margaret's brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just up at their bed feet.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dinna to us len,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wha is aught yon noble steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That stands your stable in?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The steed is mine, and it may be thine,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To ride whan ye ride in hie—<!-- Page 321 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But awa', awa', my bald brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awa', and mak nae din;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am as sick a lady the nicht<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As e'er lay a bower within."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dinna to us len,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wha is aught yon noble hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That stands your kitchen in?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The hawk is mine, and it may be thine,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hawk whan ye hawk in hie——<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But awa', awa', my bald brethren!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awa', and mak nae din;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I'm ane o' the sickest ladies this nicht<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That e'er lay a bower within."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O tell us, tell us, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dinna to us len,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wha is that, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You and the wa' between?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O it is my bower-maiden," she says,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"As sick as sick can be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O it is my bower maiden," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she's thrice as sick as me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We hae been east, and we've been west,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 322 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span><span class="i2">And low beneath the moon;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' the bower-women e'er we saw<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hadna goud buckles in their shoon."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then up and spak her eldest brither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay in ill time spak he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is Clerk Saunders, your true love,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And never mat I the,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for this scorn that he has done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This moment he sall die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But up and spak her youngest brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay in good time spak he:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O but they are a gudelie pair!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">True lovers an ye be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sword that hangs at my sword belt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sall never sinder ye!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Syne up and spak her nexten brother,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the tear stood in his ee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You've lo'ed her lang, and lo'ed her weel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pity it wad be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sword that hangs at my sword-belt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shoud ever sinder ye!"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But up and spak her fifthen brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sleep on your sleep for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we baith sall never sleep again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the tane o' us sall die!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[But up and spak her midmaist brother;<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an angry laugh leugh he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The thorn that dabs, I'll cut it down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though fair the rose may be.<!-- Page 323 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The flower that smell'd sae sweet yestreen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has lost its bloom wi' thee;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though I'm wae it should be sae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clerk Saunders, ye maun die."]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And up and spak her thirden brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay in ill time spak he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Curse on his love and comeliness!—<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dishonour'd as ye be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sword that hangs at my sword-belt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sall quickly sinder ye!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her eldest brother has drawn his sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her second has drawn anither;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between Clerk Saunders' hause and collar bane<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cald iron met thegither.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wae be to you, my fause brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And an ill death mat ye die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye mith slain Clerk Saunders in open field,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And no in the bed wi' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When seven years were come and gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady Margaret she thought lang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is up to the hichest tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the lee licht o' the moon.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was lookin o'er her castle high,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see what she might fa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there she saw a grieved ghost<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Comin waukin <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_3_114" id="LNanchor_IIIA_3_114"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_3_114" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">o'er the wa'</a>.<!-- Page 324 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O are ye a man of mean," she says,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Seekin ony o' my meat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or are you a rank robber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come in my bower to break?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I'm Clerk Saunders, your true love;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behold, Margaret, and see,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mind, for a' your meikle pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae will become of thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gin ye be Clerk Saunders, my true love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This meikle marvels me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wherein is your bonny arms<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wont to embrace me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"By worms they're eaten, in mools they're rotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behold, Margaret, and see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mind, for a' your mickle pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae will become o' thee!"<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, bonny, bonny sang the bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat on the coil o' hay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dowie, dowie was the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That follow'd the corpse o' clay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is there ony room at your head, Saunders,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is there ony room at your feet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is there ony room at your twa sides,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a lady to lie and sleep?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is nae room at my head, Margaret,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 325 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span><span class="i2">As little at my feet;<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is nae room at my twa sides,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For a lady to lie and sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But gae hame, gae hame, now, May Margaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gae hame and sew your seam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if ye were laid in your weel-made bed,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your days will nae be lang."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_3_114" id="Linenote_IIIA_3_114"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_3_114" title="link to line number">114</a>. The <i>wa'</i> here is supposed to mean the wall, which, in +some old castles, surrounded the court. J.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 326 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LORD_WAYATES_AND_AULD_INGRAM" id="LORD_WAYATES_AND_AULD_INGRAM"></a>LORD WA'YATES AND AULD INGRAM.</h3> + +<h4>A FRAGMENT. See p. <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.</h4> + +<p class="center">Jamieson's <i>Popular Ballads</i>, ii. 265.</p> + +<p class="center">"From Mr. Herd's MS., transmitted by Mr. Scott."</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Maisery was a lady fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She made her mother's bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Auld Ingram was an aged knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her he sought to wed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to seek me to spouse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has been into my bowers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to seek me to wed;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has been into my bed."<!-- Page 327 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has brocht to this ladie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The robis of the brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever, "Alas!" says this ladie,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Thae robes will put me down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has brocht to that ladie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The robis of the red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever, "Alas!" says that ladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Thae robes will be my dead."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he has brocht to that ladie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The chrystal and the laumer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sae has he brocht to her mither<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The curches o' the cannel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Every ane o' her seven brethren<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">They had a hawk in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every lady in the place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They got a goud garland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Every cuik in that kitchen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They got a noble claith;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A' was blyth at auld Ingram's coming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But Lady Maisery was wraith.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whare will I get a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad fain win hose and shoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wad rin on to my Wa'yates,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And quickly come again?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here am I, a bonny boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wad fain win hose and shoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wha will rin on to your Wa'yates,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 328 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span><span class="i2">And quickly come again."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll bid him, and ye'll pray him baith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ony prayer may dee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Marykirk to come the morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My weary wadding to see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Wa'yates lay o'er his castle wa',<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beheld baith dale and down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he beheld a bonny boy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come running to the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What news, what news, ye bonny boy?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What news hae ye to me?<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O are my ladie's fauldis brunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or are her towers won?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is my Maisery lichter yet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' a dear dochter or son?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your ladie's faulds are neither brunt,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor are her towers won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor is your Maisery lichter yet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O' a dear dochter or son:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But she bids you, and she prays you baith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gin ony prayer can dee,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Mary Kirk to come the morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her weary wadding to see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He dang the buird up wi' his fit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae did he wi' his knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silver cup, that was upon't,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I' the fire he gar'd it flee:<!-- Page 329 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O whatten a lord in a' Scotland<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dare marry my Maisery?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O it is but a feeble thocht,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To tell the tane and nae the tither;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O it is but a feeble thocht<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To tell it's your ain mither's brither."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Its I will send to that wadding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will follow syne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fitches o' the fallow deer,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the gammons o' the swine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the nine hides o' the noble cow—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas slain in season time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Its I will send to that wadding<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ten tun o' the red wine;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mair I'll send to that waddin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will follow syne."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whan he came in into the ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady Maisery she did ween;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twenty times he kist her mou',<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afore auld Ingram's een.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And till the kirk she wadna gae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor tillt she wadna ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till four-and-twenty men she gat her before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And twenty on ilka side,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And four-and-twenty milk white dows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To flee aboon her head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A loud lauchter gae Lord Wa'yates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Mang the mids o' his men;<!-- Page 330 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Marry that lady wha that will,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A maiden she is nane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O leuch ye at my men, Wa'yates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or did ye lauch at me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or leuch ye at the bierdly bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's gaun to marry me?"<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I leuchna at your men, uncle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet leuch I at thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I leuch at my lands so braid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sae weel's I do them see."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When e'en was come, and e'en-bells rung,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' man gane to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride but and the silly bridegroom<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In ae chamber were laid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wasna't a fell thing for to see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twa heads upon a cod;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lady Maisery's like the mo'ten goud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Auld Ingram's like a toad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He turn'd his face unto the stock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sound he fell asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She turn'd her face unto the wa',<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And saut tears she did weep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell about the mirk midnicht,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Auld Ingram began to turn him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He put his hand on's ladie's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And waly, sair was she mournin'.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What aileth thee, my lady dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever alas, and wae is me!<!-- Page 331 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a babe betwixt thy sides,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh! sae sair's it grieves me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O didna I tell ye, auld Ingram,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere ye socht me to wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had been into my bed?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then father that bairn on me, Maisery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O father that bairn on me;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye sall hae a rigland shire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your mornin' gift to be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That ever the like me befa',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To father my bairn on auld Ingram,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lord Wa'yates in my father's ha'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That ever the like betide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To father my bairn on auld Ingram,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Lord Wa'yates beside."<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">* * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 332 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="SWEET_WILLIE_AND_FAIR_MAISRY_See_p_79" id="SWEET_WILLIE_AND_FAIR_MAISRY_See_p_79"></a>SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR MAISRY. See p. <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 97.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hey love Willie, and how love Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Willie my love shall be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's mair than man can dee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A milk-white steed or gray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carry me on to gude greenwood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that it be day."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He mounted her upon a steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He chose a steed o' gray;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had her on to gude greenwood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that it was day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will ye gang wi' me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye ha'e a bower woman,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To stay ere it be day?"<!-- Page 333 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I winna gang to the cards," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Nor will I gae wi' thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I hae a bower woman,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To spoil my modestie.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll gie me a lady at my back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' a lady me beforn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' a midwife at my twa sides<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till your young son be born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll do me up, and further up,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the top o' yon greenwood tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every pain myself shall ha'e,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The same pain ye maun drie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first pain that did strike sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was into the side;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sighing sair said sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"These pains are ill to bide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was into the back;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sighing sair said sweet Willie,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"These pains are women's wreck."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was into the head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sighing sair said sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I fear my lady's dead."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's gane on, and further on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the foot o' yon greenwood tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There he got his lady lighter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' his young son on her knee.<!-- Page 334 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he's ta'en up his little young son,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss'd him cheek and chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is on to his mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as he could gang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye will take in my son, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gi'e him to nurses nine;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three to wauk, and three to sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And three to gang between."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he has left his mother's house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And frae her he has gane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he is back to his lady,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And safely brought her hame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then in it came her father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was belted in a brand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's nae time for brides to lye in bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the bridegroom's send's in town.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There are four-and-twenty noble lords<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A' lighted on the green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest knight amang them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He must be your bridegroom."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha will shoe my foot, my foot?<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wha will glove my hand?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha will prin my sma' middle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the short prin and the lang?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now out it speaks him, sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who knew her troubles best;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is my duty for to serve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I'm come here as guest.<!-- Page 335 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I will glove your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will prin your sma' middle,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the sma' prin and the lang."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wha will saddle my steed," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And gar my bridle ring?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wha will ha'e me to gude church-door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This day I'm ill abound?"<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I will saddle your steed, Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gar your bridle ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll hae you to gude church-door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And safely set you down."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O healy, healy take me up,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And healy set me down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And set my back until a wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My foot to yird-fast stane."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He healy took her frae her horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And healy set her down;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And set her back until a wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her foot to yird-fast stane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When they had eaten and well drunken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a' had thorn'd fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride's father he took the cup,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to serve out the wine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An ill death mat he die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I fear our bride she's born a bairn,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 336 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span><span class="i2">Or else has it a dee."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en out a Bible braid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And deeply has she sworn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If I ha'e born a bairn," she says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sin' yesterday at morn;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Or if I've born a bairn," she says,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Sin' yesterday at noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nae a lady amang you a'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wou'd been here sae soon."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it spake the bridegroom's man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mischance come ower his heel!<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Win up, win up, now bride," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<a name="LNanchor_IIIA_5_112" id="LNanchor_IIIA_5_112"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_5_112" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">And dance a shamefu' reel</a>."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks the bride hersell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a sorry heart had she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Is there nae ane amang you a'<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will dance this dance for me?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks him, sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he spake aye thro' pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O draw my boots for me, bridegroom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or I dance for your bride."<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it spake the bride hersell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O na, this maunna be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I will dance this dance mysell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' my back shou'd gang in three."<!-- Page 337 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She hadna well gane thro' the reel,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yet well on the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she fell down at Willie's feet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As cauld as ony stane.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en her in his arms twa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ha'ed her up the stair;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then up it came her jolly bridegroom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "What's your business there?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Willie lifted up his foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dang him down the stair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brake three ribs o' the bridegroom's side,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a word he spake nae mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nae meen was made for that lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she was lying dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a' was for him, sweet Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the fields for he ran mad.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_5_112" id="Linenote_IIIA_5_112"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_5_112" title="link to line number">112</a>. +The first reel, danced with the bride, her maiden, and +two young men, and called the Shame Spring, or Reel, as +the bride chooses the tune that is to be played. B.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 338 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LADY_MARJORIE_See_p_92" id="LADY_MARJORIE_See_p_92"></a>LADY MARJORIE. See p. <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</h3> + + +<p>"Given from the recitation of an old woman in +Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire, from whom the Editor has +obtained several valuable pieces of a like nature. In +singing, O is added at the end of the second and fourth +line of each stanza." Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 234.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lady Marjorie was her mother's only daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her father's only heir;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she is awa to Strawberry Castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To get some unco lair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She had na been in Strawberry Castle<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A twelvemonth and a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Lady Marjorie she gangs big wi' child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As big as she can gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Word is to her father gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before he got on his shoon,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it is to an Irish groom.<!-- Page 339 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But word is to her mother gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before she got on her goun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To a lord of high renown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wha will put on the pat," they said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Or wha will put on the pan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To burn Lady Marjorie in?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father he put on the pat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her sister put on the pan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To burn Lady Marjorie in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her mother she sat in a golden chair,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see her daughter burn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But where will I get a pretty little boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will win hose and shoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That will go quickly to Strawberry Castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid my lord come doun?"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O here am I, a pretty little boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will win hose and shoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid thy lord come doun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O when he cam to broken brigs,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bent his bow and swam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he cam to gude dry land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He set doun his foot and ran.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he cam to Strawberry Castle,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 340 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span><span class="i2">He tirled at the pin;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nane was sae ready as the gay lord himsell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To open and let him in.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O is there any of my towers burnt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or any of my castles won?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a daughter or a son?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O there is nane of thy towers burnt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor nane of thy castles broken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be burnt in a fire of oaken."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gar saddle to me the black," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Gar saddle to me the broun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That e'er carried a man frae toun!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He left the black into the slap,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The broun into the brae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fair fa' that bonnie apple-gray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That carried this gay lord away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Beet on, beet on, my brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I value you not one straw;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yonder comes my ain true luve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I hear his horn blaw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Beet on, beet on, my father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I value you not a pin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For yonder comes my ain true luve,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I hear his bridle ring."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He took a little horn out of his pocket,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he blew't baith loud and schill;<!-- Page 341 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wi' the little life that was in her,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She hearken'd to it full weel.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when he came into the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He lap unto the wa';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought to get a kiss o' her bonnie lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But her body fell in twa!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O vow! O vow! O vow!" he said,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"O vow! but ye've been cruel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye've taken the timber out of my ain wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And burnt my ain dear jewel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll burn baith father and mother;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll burn baith sister and brother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll burn baith kith and kin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll aye remember the pretty little boy<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That did thy errand rin."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 342 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LEESOME_BRAND" id="LEESOME_BRAND"></a>LEESOME BRAND.</h3> + + +<p>Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, i. 38. +This is properly a tragic story, as may be perceived by +comparing the present corrupted version (evidently +made up from several different sources) with the Danish +and Swedish ballads. See <i>Herr Medelvold</i>, <i>Danske +Viser</i>, iii. 361, <i>Die wahrsagenden Nachtigallen</i>, in +Grimm's <i>Altdänische Heldenlieder</i>, p. 88, <i>Fair Midel +and Kirsten Lyle</i>, translated by Jamieson, <i>Illustrations</i>, +p. 377; and <i>Herr Redevall</i>, <i>Svenska Folkvisor</i>, ii. 189, +<i>Krist' Lilla och Herr Tideman</i>, Arwidsson, i. 352, <i>Sir +Wal and Lisa Lyle</i>, translated by Jamieson, p. 373.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My boy was scarcely ten years auld,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whan he went to an unco land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where wind never blew, nor cocks ever crew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ohon! for my son, Leesome Brand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Awa' to that king's court he went,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was to serve for meat an' fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gude red gowd it was his hire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lang in that king's court stay'd he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hadna been in that unco land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But only twallmonths twa or three;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till by the glancing o' his ee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gain'd the love o' a gay ladye.<!-- Page 343 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This ladye was scarce eleven years auld,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When on her love she was right bauld;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was scarce up to my right knee,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When oft in bed wi' men I'm tauld.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when nine months were come and gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This ladye's face turn'd pale and wane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Leesome Brand she then did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"In this place I can nae mair stay.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye do you to my father's stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where steeds do stand baith wight and able;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike ane o' them upo' the back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The swiftest will gie his head a wap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye take him out upo' the green,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And get him saddled and bridled seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get ane for you, anither for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lat us ride out ower the lee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye do you to my mother's coffer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And out of it ye'll take my tocher;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therein are sixty thousand pounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which all to me by right belongs."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's done him to her father's stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where steeds stood baith wicht and able;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he strake ane upon the back,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The swiftest gae his head a wap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en him out upo' the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And got him saddled and bridled seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ane for him, and another for her,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 344 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span><span class="i2">To carry them baith wi' might and virr.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's done him to her mother's coffer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there he's taen his lover's tocher;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein were sixty thousand pounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which all to her by right belong'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When they had ridden about six mile,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His true love then began to fail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O wae's me," said that gay ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I fear my back will gang in three!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<a name="LNanchor_IIIA_7_49" id="LNanchor_IIIA_7_49"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_7_49" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">O gin I had but a gude midwife</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here this day to save my life,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ease me o' my misery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear, how happy I wou'd be!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My love, we're far frae ony town;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is nae midwife to be foun';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if ye'll be content wi' me,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll do for you what man can dee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For no, for no, this maunna be,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' a sigh, replied this gay ladye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When I endure my grief and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My companie ye maun refrain.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll take your arrow and your bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ye will hunt the deer and roe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be sure ye touch not the white hynde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For she is o' the woman kind."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He took sic pleasure in deer and roe,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till he forgot his gay ladye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till by it came that milk-white hynde,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then he mind on his ladye syne.<!-- Page 345 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hasted him to yon greenwood tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For to relieve his gay ladye;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But found his ladye lying dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Likeways her young son at her head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His mother lay ower her castle wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she beheld baith dale and down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she beheld young Leesome Brand,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As he came riding to the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Get minstrels for to play," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And dancers to dance in my room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For here comes my son, Leesome Brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he comes merrilie to the town."<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seek nae minstrels to play, mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor dancers to dance in your room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But tho' your son comes, Leesome Brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet he comes sorry to the town.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O I hae lost my gowden knife,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">I rather had lost my ain sweet life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hae lost a better thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gilded sheath that it was in."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Are there nae gowdsmiths here in Fife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can make to you anither knife?<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are there nae sheath-makers in the land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can make a sheath to Leesome Brand?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There are nae gowdsmiths here in Fife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can make me sic a gowden knife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor nae sheath-makers in the land,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can make to me a sheath again.<!-- Page 346 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There ne'er was man in Scotland born,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ordain'd to be so much forlorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've lost my ladye I lov'd sae dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Likeways the son she did me bear."<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Put in your hand at my bed head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There ye'll find a gude grey horn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In it three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hae been there sin' he was born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Drap twa o' them o' your ladye,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ane upo' your little young son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then as lively they will be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the first night ye brought them hame."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He put his hand at her bed head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there he found a gude grey horn;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That had been there sin' he was born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then he drapp'd twa on his ladye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ane o' them on his young son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now they do as lively be,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the first day he brought them hame.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><span class="smcap">Note</span> to v. <a name="Linenote_IIIA_7_49" id="Linenote_IIIA_7_49"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_7_49" title="link to line number">49-72</a>.—A +similar passage is found at p. <a href="#Page_94">94</a> +of this volume, v. 33-36, also vol. v. p. 178, v. 97-108, and +p. 402, v. 169-176, and in the Scandinavian ballads cited in +the preface to this ballad. In these last the lady frees herself +from the presence of the knight by sending him to get +her some water, and she is found dead on his return. This +incident, remarks Grimm, (<i>Altdänische Heldenlieder</i>, p. 508), +is also found in <i>Wolfdietrich</i>, Str. 1680-96.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 347 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_YOUTH_OF_ROSENGORD" id="THE_YOUTH_OF_ROSENGORD"></a>THE YOUTH OF ROSENGORD. See p. <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</h3> + +<p><i>Sven i Rosengård</i>, <i>Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, iii. 3, and +Arwidsson's <i>Fornsånger</i>, ii. 83: translated in <i>Literature +and Romance of Northern Europe</i>, i. 263.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"So long where hast thou tarried,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I have been into my stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"What hast thou done in the stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I have watered the horses,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may ye look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Why is thy foot so bloody,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The black horse has trampled me,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<!-- Page 348 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span><span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Why is thy sword so bloody,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I have murdered my brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Whither wilt thou betake thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I shall flee my country,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"What will become of thy wedded wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"She must spin for her living,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"What will become of thy children small,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"They must beg from door to door,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"When comest thou back again,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"When the swan is black as night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"And when will the swan be black as night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"When the raven shall be white as snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<!-- Page 349 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span><span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"And when will the raven be white as snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"When the grey rocks take to flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"And when will fly the grey rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Young man of Rosengord?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The rocks they will fly never,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our mother dear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may you look for me, or look for me never.<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 350 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_BLOOD-STAINED_SON_See_p_219" id="THE_BLOOD-STAINED_SON_See_p_219"></a>THE BLOOD-STAINED SON.—See p. <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</h3> + +<p>A translation, nearly word for word, of <i>Der Blutige +Sohn</i>, printed from oral tradition in Schröter's <i>Finnische +Runen</i>, (<i>Finnisch und Deutsch</i>,) ed. 1834, p. +151.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say whence com'st thou, say whence com'st thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"From the lake-side, from the lake-side,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What hast done there, what hast done there,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Steeds I watered, steeds I watered,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why thus clay-bedaubed thy jacket,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Steeds kept stamping, steeds kept stamping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<!-- Page 351 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But how came thy sword so bloody,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have stabbed my only brother,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whither wilt thou now betake thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Far away to foreign countries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let him chop wood in the forest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never wish to see me more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let her sit, her flax a-picking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never wish to see me more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where leav'st thou thy wife so youthful,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let her deck her, take another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never wish to see me more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where leav'st thou thy son so youthful,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He to school, and bear the rod there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">[Never wish to see me more,]<br /></span> +<!-- Page 352 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span><span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where leav'st thou thy youthful daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She to the wood and eat wild berries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never wish to see me more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Home when com'st thou back from roaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"In the north when breaks the morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In the north when breaks the morning,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When stones dance upon the water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When shall stones dance on the water,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When a feather sinks to the bottom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When shall feathers sink to the bottom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merry son of mine?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When we all shall come to judgment,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear mother mine."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 353 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_TWA_BROTHERS_See_p_220" id="THE_TWA_BROTHERS_See_p_220"></a>THE TWA BROTHERS. See p. <a href="#Page_220">220</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Motherwell's <i>Minstrelsy</i>, p. 61.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were twa brothers at the scule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when they got awa',—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's will ye play at the stane-chucking,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will ye play at the ba',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will ye gae up to yon hill head,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there we'll warsel a fa'?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I winna play at the stane-chucking,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will I play at the ba';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll gae up to yon bonnie green hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there we'll warsel a fa'."<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They warsled up, they warsled down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till John fell to the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dirk fell out of William's pouch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gave John a deadly wound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lift me upon your back,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Take me to yon well fair,<!-- Page 354 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's lifted his brother upon his back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ta'en him to yon well fair;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's wash'd his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But they bleed ay mair and mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak ye aff my Holland sark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rive it gair by gair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And row it in my bluidy wounds,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taken aff his Holland sark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And torn it gair by gair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's rowit it in his bluidy wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But they bleed ay mair and mair.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tak now aff my green cleiding,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And row me saftly in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tak me up to yon kirk style,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare the grass grows fair and green."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taken aff the green cleiding,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rowed him saftly in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's laid him down by yon kirk style,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare the grass grows fair and green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What will ye say to your father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When ye gae hame at e'en?"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll say ye're lying at yon kirk style,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare the grass grows fair and green."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O no, O no, my brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O you must not say so;<!-- Page 355 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But say that I'm gane to a foreign land,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whare nae man does me know."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he sat in his father's chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He grew baith pale and wan:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O what blude 's that upon your brow?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear son, tell to me."<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is the blude o' my gude gray steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wadna ride wi' me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O thy steed's blude was ne'er sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor e'er sae dear to me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what blude 's this upon your cheek?<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear son, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is the blude of my greyhound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wadna hunt for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O thy hound's blude was ne'er sae red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor e'er sae dear to me:<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what blude 's this upon your hand?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dear son, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is the blude of my gay goss hawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wadna flee for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O thy hawk's blude was ne'er sae red,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor e'er sae dear to me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what blude 's this upon your dirk?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dear Willie, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is the blude of my ae brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O dule and wae is me!"<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what will ye say to your father?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dear Willie, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll saddle my steed, and awa I'll ride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To dwell in some far countrie."<!-- Page 356 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O when will ye come hame again?<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dear Willie, tell to me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"When sun and mune leap on yon hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that will never be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She turn'd hersel' right round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her heart burst into three:<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My ae best son is deid and gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my tother ane I'll ne'er see."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 357 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_MILLER_AND_THE_KINGS_DAUGHTER" id="THE_MILLER_AND_THE_KINGS_DAUGHTER"></a>THE MILLER AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER. See p. <a href="#Page_231">231</a>.</h3> + + + +<p>From <i>Wit Restor'd</i>, (1658,) reprinted, London, +1817, i. 153. It is there ascribed to "Mr. Smith," (Dr. +James Smith, the author of many of the pieces in that +collection,) who may have written it down from tradition, +and perhaps added a verse or two. Mr. Rimbault +has printed the same piece from a broadside dated 1656, +in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, v. 591. A fragment of it is given +from recitation at p. 316 of that volume, and a copy +quite different from any before published, at p. 102 of +vol. vi. Although two or three stanzas are ludicrous, +and were probably intended for burlesque, this ballad +is by no means to be regarded as a parody.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were two sisters, they went a-playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a hie downe, downe, a downe a</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see their fathers ships sayling in.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a hy downe, downe, a downe o.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when they came into the sea brym,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The elder did push the younger in.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, O sister, take me by the gowne,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drawe me up upon the dry ground."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, <!-- Page 358 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span>&c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, O sister, that may not bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till salt and oatmeale grow both of a tree."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Somtymes she sanke, somtymes she swam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untill she came unto the mildam.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The miller runne hastily downe the cliffe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And up he betook her withouten her life.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he doe with her brest bone?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made him a viall to play thereupon.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he doe with her fingers so small?<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made him peggs to his violl withall.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he doe with her nose-ridge?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto his violl he made him a bridge.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he do with her veynes so blewe?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made him strings to his viole thereto.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, <!-- Page 359 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>&c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he doe with her eyes so bright?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his violl he played at first sight.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he doe with her tongue soe rough?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto the violl it spake enough.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What did he doe with her two shinnes?<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto the violl they danct Moll Syms.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then bespake the treble string,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O yonder is my father the king."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then bespake the second string,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O yonder sitts my mother the queen."<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then bespake the stringes all three,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O yonder is my sister that drowned mee."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now pay the miller for his payne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let him bee gone in the divels name.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 360 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_BONNY_BOWS_O_LONDON_See_p_231" id="THE_BONNY_BOWS_O_LONDON_See_p_231"></a>THE BONNY BOWS O' LONDON. See p. <a href="#Page_231">231</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 128.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were twa sisters in a bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ae king's son hae courted them baith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He courted the youngest wi' broach and ring,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He courted the eldest wi' some other thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell ance upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest to the youngest did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Will ye gae to yon Tweed mill dam,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And see our father's ships come to land?"<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<!-- Page 361 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They baith stood up upon a stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest dang the youngest in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She swimmed up, sae did she down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she came to the Tweed mill-dam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The miller's servant he came out,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the lady floating about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O master, master, set your mill,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There is a fish, or a milk-white swan,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They could not ken her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">[For] the scales o' gowd that were laid there,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They could not ken her fingers sae white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rings o' gowd they were sae bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They could not ken her middle sae jimp,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stays o' gowd were so well laced,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<!-- Page 362 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They could not ken her foot sae fair,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shoes o' gowd they were so rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father's fiddler he came by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upstarted her ghaist before his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll take a lock o' my yellow hair,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll make a string to your fiddle there,"<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll take a lith o' my little finger bane,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And ye'll make a pin to your fiddle then,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's ta'en a lock o' her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made a string to his fiddle there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's taen a lith o' her little finger bane,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he's made a pin to his fiddle then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The firstand spring the fiddle did play,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the gay and the grinding</i>;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said, "Ye'll drown my sister, as she's dune me."<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>At the bonny, bonny bows o' London</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 363 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.<br /> + +<a name="THE_CROODLIN_DOO" id="THE_CROODLIN_DOO"></a>THE CROODLIN DOO.</h3> <p class="center">See <i>Lord Donald</i>, p. <a href="#Page_244">244</a>.</p> + + +<p>From Chambers's <i>Scottish Ballads</i>, p. 324. Other +copies in <i>The Scot's Musical Museum</i>, (1853,) vol. iv. +364*, and Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, +ii. 179.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whaur hae ye been a' the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My little wee croodlin doo?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I've been at my grandmother's;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mak my bed, mammie, noo."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O what gat ye at your grandmother's,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">My little wee croodlin doo?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I got a bonnie wee fishie;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mak my bed, mammie, noo."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O whaur did she catch the fishie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bonnie wee croodlin doo?"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She catch'd it in the gutter-hole;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mak my bed, mammie, noo."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what did she do wi' the fish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My little wee croodlin doo?"<!-- Page 364 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She boiled it in a brass pan;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O mak my bed, mammie, noo."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what did ye do wi' the banes o't,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bonnie wee croodlin doo?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I gied them to my little dog;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mak my bed, mammie, noo,"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what did your little doggie do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bonnie wee croodlin doo?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He stretch'd out his head, his feet, and dee'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so will I, mammie, noo!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.<br /> + +<a name="THE_SNAKE-COOK" id="THE_SNAKE-COOK"></a>THE SNAKE-COOK.</h3> + + +<p>From oral tradition, in Erk's <i>Deutscher Leiderhort</i>, +p. 6. Our homely translation is, as far as possible, word +for word. Other German versions are <i>The Stepmother</i>, +at p. 5 of the same collection, (or Uhland, i. 272,) and +<i>Grandmother Adder-cook</i>, at p. 7. The last is translated +by Jamieson, <i>Illustrations of Northern Antiquities</i>, p. 320.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where hast thou been away so long,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O I have been at my true-love's,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>My young life</i>,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>She has poisoned for me</i>."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What gave she thee to eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<!-- Page 365 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She cooked me a speckled fish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And how many pieces cut she thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry my dearest son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She cut three little pieces from it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where left she then the third piece,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She gave it to her dark-brown dog,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what befell the dark-brown dog,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"His belly burst in the midst in two,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wishest thou for thy father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wish him a thousandfold boon and blessing,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wishest thou for thy mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wish for her eternal bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wishest thou for thy true-love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Henry, my dearest son?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wish her eternal hell and torment,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lady mother, ah me!" &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 366 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.<br /> + +<a name="THE_CHILDS_LAST_WILL" id="THE_CHILDS_LAST_WILL"></a>THE CHILD'S LAST WILL.</h3> + + +<p><i>Den lillas Testamente: Svenska Folk-Visor</i>, iii. 13. +Translated in <i>Literature and Romance of Northern +Europe</i>, i. 265. See also Arwidsson's <i>Fornsånger</i>, ii. 90.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So long where hast thou tarried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have tarried with my old nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What gave she thee for dinner,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A few small speckled fishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What didst thou do with the fish-bones,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gave them to the beagle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wish leav'st thou thy father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The blessedness of heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<!-- Page 367 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wish leav'st thou thy mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"All the joys of heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wish leav'st thou thy brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A fleet ship on the waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wish leav'st thou thy sister,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Golden chests and caskets,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wish leav'st thou thy step-mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Of hell the bitter sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What wish leav'st thou thy old nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little daughter dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For her I wish the same pangs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet step-mother mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But now the time is over<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I with you can stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The little bells of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are ringing me away."<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For ah, ah!—I am so ill—ah!</i><span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 368 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_THREE_KNIGHTS_See_p_251" id="THE_THREE_KNIGHTS_See_p_251"></a>THE THREE KNIGHTS. See p. <a href="#Page_251">251</a>.</h3> + + +<p class="center">From the second edition of Gilbert's <i>Ancient Christmas +Carols</i>, &c. p. 68.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There did three Knights come from the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these three Knights courted one Lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first Knight came was all in white,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And asked of her, if she'd be his delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The next Knight came was all in green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And asked of her, if she'd be his Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third Knight came was all in red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And asked of her, if she would wed,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<!-- Page 369 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then have you asked of my Father dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Likewise of her who did me bear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And have you asked of my brother John?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And also of my sister Anne?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, I have asked of your Father dear,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Likewise of her who did you bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I have asked of your sister Anne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I've not asked of your brother John,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[Here some verses seem to be wanting.]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For on the road as they rode along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There did they meet with her brother John,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She stooped low to kiss him sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He to her heart did a dagger meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ride on, ride on," cried the serving man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<!-- Page 370 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Methinks your bride she looks wond'rous wan,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish I were on yonder stile,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there I would sit and bleed awhile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wish I were on yonder hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There I'd alight and make my will,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What would you give to your Father dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The gallant steed which doth me bear,"<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What would you give to your Mother dear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My wedding shift which I do wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But she must wash it very clean,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my heart's blood sticks in every seam,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What would you give to your sister Anne?"<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My gay gold ring, and my feathered fan,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What would you give to your brother John?"<br /></span> +<!-- Page 371 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A rope and gallows to hang him on,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What would you give to your brother John's wife?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With the high and the lily oh</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A widow's weeds, and a quiet life,"<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>As the rose was so sweetly blown</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 372 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_CRUEL_MOTHER_See_p_262" id="THE_CRUEL_MOTHER_See_p_262"></a>THE CRUEL MOTHER. See p. <a href="#Page_262">262</a>.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 222.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell ance upon a day, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It fell ance upon a day, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It fell ance upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The clerk and lady went to play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If my baby be a son, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If my baby be a son, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If my baby be a son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll make him a lord o' high renown,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's lean'd her back to the wa', <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's lean'd her back to the wa', <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's lean'd her back to the wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pray'd that her pains might fa',<br /></span> +<!-- Page 373 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's lean'd her back to the thorn, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's lean'd her back to the thorn, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's lean'd her back to the thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There has her baby born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O bonny baby, if ye suck sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You'll never suck by my side mair,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's riven the muslin frae her head, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's riven the muslin frae her head, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's riven the muslin frae her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tied the baby hand and feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out she took her little penknife, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out she took her little penknife, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out she took her little penknife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twin'd the young thing o' its life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's howk'd a hole anent the meen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There laid her sweet baby in,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 374 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She had her to her father's ha', <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She had her to her father's ha', <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She had her to her father's ha',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was the meekest maid amang them a',<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fell ance upon a day, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It fell ance upon a day, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It fell ance upon a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She saw twa babies at their play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O bonny babies, gin ye were mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'd cleathe you in the silks sae fine,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O wild mother, when we were thine, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wild mother, when we were thine, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O wild mother, when we were thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You cleath'd us not in silks sae fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But now we're in the heavens high, <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now we're in the heavens high, <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But now we're in the heavens high,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you've the pains o' hell to try,"<br /></span> +<!-- Page 375 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span><span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', <i>Edinbro'</i>, <i>Edinbro'</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', <i>Stirling for aye</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She threw hersell ower the castle-wa',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There I wat she got a fa',<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay</i>.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 376 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_MINISTERS_DOCHTER_O_NEWARKE" id="THE_MINISTERS_DOCHTER_O_NEWARKE"></a>THE MINISTER'S DOCHTER O' NEWARKE.</h3> + + +<p class="center">See p. <a href="#Page_262">262</a>.</p> + +<p>From <i>Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads</i>, +Percy Society, vol. xvii. p. 51. This is the same +ballad, with trifling variations, as <i>The Minister's +Daughter of New York</i>, Buchan, ii. 217.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Minister's dochter o' Newarke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has fa'en in luve wi' her father's clerk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She courted him sax years and a day,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length her fause-luve did her betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She did her doun to the green woods gang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To spend awa' a while o' her time,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<!-- Page 377 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lent her back unto a thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she's got her twa bonnie boys born,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's ta'en the ribbons frae her hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Boun' their bodies fast and sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's put them aneath a marble stane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinkin' a may to gae her hame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leukin' o'er her castel wa',<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She spied twa bonny boys at the ba',<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bonny babies, if ye were mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I woud feed ye wi' the white bread and wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I wou'd feed ye with the ferra cow's milk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' dress ye i' the finest silk,"<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cruel mother, when we were thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw nane o' your bread and wine,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 378 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span><span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We saw nane o' your ferra cow's milk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wore we o' your finest silk,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bonny babies, can ye tell me,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sort o' death for ye I maun dee,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, cruel mother, we'll tell to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sort o' death for us ye maun dee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seven years a fool i' the woods,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Seven years a fish i' the floods,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seven years to be a church bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seven years a porter i' hell,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Welcome, welcome, fool i' the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome, welcome, fish i' the flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Welcome, welcome, to be a church bell,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But heavens keep me out o' hell,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Alane by the green burn sidie O</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 379 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="BONDSEY_AND_MAISRY_See_p_298" id="BONDSEY_AND_MAISRY_See_p_298"></a>BONDSEY AND MAISRY. See p. <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</h3> + + +<p class="center">From Buchan's <i>Ballads of the North of Scotland</i>, ii. 265.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O come along wi' me, brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now come along wi' me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we'll gae seek our sister Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the water o' Dee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest brother he stepped in,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">He stepped to the knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then out he jump'd upo' the bank,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "This water's nae for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The second brother he stepped in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He stepped to the quit;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then out he jump'd upo' the bank,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Says, "This water's wond'rous deep."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the third brother stepped in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He stepped to the chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out he got, and forward wade,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For fear o' drowning him.<!-- Page 380 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The youngest brother he stepped in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Took 's sister by the hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said, "Here she is, my sister Maisry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' the hinny draps on her chin.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O if I were in some bonny ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in some strange countrie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to find out some conjurer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To gar Maisry speak to me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out it speaks an auld woman,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she was passing by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ask of your sister what you want,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she will speak to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O sister, tell me who is the man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That did your body win?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who is the wretch, tell me, likewise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That threw you in the lin?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Bondsey was the only man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That did my body win;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And likewise Bondsey was the man<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That threw me in the lin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O will we Bondsey head, sister?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or will we Bondsey hang?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will we set him at our bow end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lat arrows at him gang?"<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye winna Bondsey head, brothers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will ye Bondsey hang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye'll take out his twa grey e'en,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Make Bondsey blind to gang.<!-- Page 381 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye'll put to the gate a chain o' gold,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rose garland gar make;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye'll put that in Bondsey's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A' for your sister's sake."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 382 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LADY_DIAMOND" id="LADY_DIAMOND"></a>LADY DIAMOND.</h3> + + +<p>From the Percy Society Publications, xvii. 71. The +same in Buchan, ii. 206. The ballad is given in +Sharpe's <i>Ballad Book</i>, under the title of <i>Dysmal</i>, and +by Aytoun, <i>Ballads of Scotland</i>, 2d ed., ii. 173, under +that of <i>Lady Daisy</i>. All these names are corruptions +of Ghismonda, on whose well-known story (<i>Decamerone</i>, +iv. 1, 9) the present is founded.—This piece and +the next might better have been inserted at p. <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, as +a part of the Appendix to Book III.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a king, an' a curious king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' a king o' royal fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had ae dochter, he had never mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ladye Diamond was her name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's fa'en into shame, an' lost her gude name,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' wrought her parents 'noy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' a' for her layen her luve so low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On her father's kitchen boy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ae nicht as she lay on her bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just thinkin' to get rest,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up it came her old father,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just like a wanderin' ghaist.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Rise up, put on your goun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"For I fear ye gae too roun'."<!-- Page 383 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Too roun I gae, yet blame me nae;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye'll cause me na to shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For better luve I that bonnie boy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than a' your weel-bred men."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king's ca'd up his wa'-wight men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he paid meat an' fee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bring here to me that bonnie boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' we'll smore him right quietlie."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up hae they ta'en that bonnie boy,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put him 'tween twa feather beds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naethin' was dane, nor naethin' said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till that bonnie bonnie boy was dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king's ta'en out a braid braid sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' streak'd it on a strae;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' thro' an' thro' that bonnie boy's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's gart cauld iron gae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out has he ta'en his poor bluidie heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set it in a tasse o' gowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And set it before ladye Diamonds face,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Said "Fair ladye, behold!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up has she ta'en this poor bludie heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' holden it in her han';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Better luved I that bonnie bonnie boy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than a' my father's lan'."<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up has she ta'en his poor bludie heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' laid it at her head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears awa' frae her eyne did flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' ere midnicht she was dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 384 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_WEST_COUNTRY_DAMOSELS" id="THE_WEST_COUNTRY_DAMOSELS"></a>THE WEST COUNTRY DAMOSELS COMPLAINT.</h3> + + +<p class="center">From Collier's <i>Book of Roxburghe Ballads</i>, p. 202.</p> + +<p>After a broadside "printed by P. Brooksby, at the +Golden Bull in Westsmith-field, neer the Hospitall +Gate." The first ten or twelve stanzas seem to be +ancient.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When will you marry me, William,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And make me your wedded wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or take you your keen bright sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rid me out of my life."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say no more <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_21_5" id="LNanchor_IIIA_21_5"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_21_5" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">then so</a>, lady,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Say you no more then so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you shall unto the wild forrest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And amongst the buck and doe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where thou shalt eat of the hips and haws,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the roots that are so sweet,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou shalt drink of the cold water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That runs underneath your feet."<!-- Page 385 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now had she not been in the wild forrest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passing three months and a day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with hunger and cold she had her fill,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till she was quite worn away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At last she saw a fair tyl'd house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there she swore by the rood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she would to that fair tyl'd house,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There for to get her some food.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when she came unto the gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aloud, aloud she cry'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"An alms, an alms, my own sister!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I ask you for no pride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her sister call'd up her merry men all,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">By one, by two, and by three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid them hunt away that wild doe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As far as e'er they could see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hunted her o're hill and dale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they hunted her so sore,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they hunted her into the forrest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where her sorrows grew more and more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She laid a stone all at her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And another all at her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down she lay between these two,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till death had lull'd her asleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When sweet Will came and stood at her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And likewise stood at her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand times he kiss'd her cold lips,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 386 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span><span class="i2">Her body being fast asleep.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, seaven times he stood at her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And seaven times at her head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand times he shook her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Although her body was dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah wretched me!" he loudly cry'd,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What is it that I have done?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wou'd to the powers above I'de dy'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When thus I left her alone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come, come, you gentle red-breast now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And prepare for us a tomb,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst unto cruel Death I bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sing like a swan my doom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why could I ever cruel be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto so fair a creature;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! she dy'd for love of me,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The loveliest she in nature!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For me she left her home so fair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wander in this wild grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there with sighs and pensive care<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She ended her life for love.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O constancy, in her thou'rt lost!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now let women boast no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's fled unto the Elizian coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And with her carry'd the store.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O break, my heart, with sorrow fill'd,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, swell, you strong tides of grief!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You that my dear love have kill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, yield in death to me relief.<!-- Page 387 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cruel her sister, was't for me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That to her she was unkind?<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her husband I will never be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But with this my love be joyn'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Grim Death shall tye the marriage bands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which jealousie shan't divide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together shall tye our cold hands,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whilst here we lye side by side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Witness, ye groves, and chrystal streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How faithless I late have been;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But do repent with dying leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of that my ungrateful sin;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And wish a thousand times that I<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had been but to her more kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not have let a virgin dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose equal there's none can find.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now heaps of sorrow press my soul;<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now, now 'tis she takes her way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I come, my love, without controule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor from thee will longer stay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that he fetch'd a heavy groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which rent his tender breast,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then by her he laid him down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When as Death did give him rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whilst mournful birds, with leavy bows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To them a kind burial gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warbled out their love-sick vows,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whilst they both slept in their grave.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_21_5" id="Linenote_IIIA_21_5"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_21_5" title="link to line number">5</a>, so then.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 388 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="THE_BRAVE_EARL_BRAND_AND_THE_KING" id="THE_BRAVE_EARL_BRAND_AND_THE_KING"></a>THE BRAVE EARL BRAND AND THE KING +OF ENGLAND'S DAUGHTER.</h3> <p class="center">See p. <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.</p> + + +<p class="center">From Bell's <i>Ballads of the Peasantry of England</i>, p. 122.</p> + +<p>This ballad, which was printed by Bell from the recitation +of an old Northumberland fiddler, is defective +in the tenth and the last stanzas, and has suffered much +from corruption in the course of transmission. The +name of the hero, however, is uncommonly well preserved, +and affords a link, rarely occurring in English, +with the corresponding Danish and Swedish ballads, a +good number of which have Hildebrand, though more +have Ribold. It may be observed that in <i>Hildebrand +og Hilde</i> (Grundtvig, No. 83), the knight has the rank +here ascribed to the lady.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hand heede hertug Hyldebraand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kongens sönn aff Engeland."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The "old Carl Hood" who gives the alarm in this +ballad, is called in most of the Danish ballads "a rich +earl"; in one a treacherous man, in another a young +Carl, and in a third an old man; which together furnish +the elements of his character here of a treacherous +old Carl.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O did you ever hear of the brave Earl Brand?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's courted the king's daughter o' fair England,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I' the brave nights so early</i>.<!-- Page 389 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was scarcely fifteen years that tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sae boldly she came to his bed-side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Earl Brand, how fain wad I see<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pack of hounds let loose on the lea."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lady fair, I have no steed but one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou shalt ride and I will run."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Earl Brand, but my father has two,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou shalt have the best of tho."<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now they have ridden o'er moss and moor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they have met neither rich nor poor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till at last they met with old Carl Hood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's aye for ill, and never for good.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, Earl Brand, an ye love me,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slay this old carl, and gar him dee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O lady fair, but that would be sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To slay an auld carl that wears grey hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My own lady fair, I'll not do that,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll pay him his fee......."<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where have ye ridden this lee lang day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where have ye stown this fair lady away?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I have not ridden this lee lang day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet have I stown this lady away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For she is, I trow, my sick sister,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom I have been bringing fra Winchester."<!-- Page 390 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If she's been sick, and nigh to dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What makes her wear the ribbon so red?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If she's been sick, and like to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What makes her wear the gold sae high?"<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When came the carl to the lady's yett,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rudely, rudely rapped thereat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now where is the lady of this hall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She's out with her maids a-playing at the ball."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ha, ha, ha! ye are all mista'en;<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye may count your maidens owre again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I met her far beyond the lea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the young Earl Brand, his leman to be."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her father of his best men armed fifteen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they're ridden after them bidene.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady looked owre her left shoulder then;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "O Earl Brand, we are both of us ta'en."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If they come on me one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may stand by till the fights be done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if they come on me one and all,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may stand by and see me fall."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They came upon him one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till fourteen battles he has won.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And fourteen men he has them slain,<br /></span> +<!-- Page 391 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span><span class="i0">Each after each upon the plain.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the fifteenth man behind stole round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dealt him a deep and deadly wound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though he was wounded to the deid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He set his lady on her steed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They rode till they came to the river Doune,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there they lighted to wash his wound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Earl Brand, I see your heart's blood!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's nothing but the glent <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_22_58" id="LNanchor_IIIA_22_58"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_22_58" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">and my scarlet hood</a>."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They rode till they came to his mother's yett,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So faint and feebly he rapped thereat.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O my son's slain, he is falling to swoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it's all for the sake of an English loon!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O say not so, my dearest mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But marry her to my youngest brother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To a maiden true he'll give his hand,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the king's daughter o' fair England.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"[To the king's daughter o' fair England,]<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a prize that was won by a slain brother's brand,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I' the brave nights so early.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_22_58" id="Linenote_IIIA_22_58"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_22_58" title="link to line number">58</a>. Qy.? <i>of</i> my scarlet hood.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 392 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LA_VENDICATRICE_See_p_273" id="LA_VENDICATRICE_See_p_273"></a>LA VENDICATRICE. See p. <a href="#Page_273">273</a>.</h3> + + +<p>From <i>Canti Popolari Inediti Umbri, Piceni, Piemontesi, +Latini, raccolti e illustrati da</i> <span class="smcap">Oreste Marcoaldi</span>. +Genova, 1855. p. 167.—From Alessandria.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_1" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_1"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_1" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">varda ben, Munfrenna</a>,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh varda <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_2" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_2"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_2" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">qul castè</a>:<span class="linenum">2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'è trentatrè <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_3" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_3"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_3" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">fantenni</a><span class="linenum">3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ch' a j' ho <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_4" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_4"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_4" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">menaji me</a>.<span class="linenum">4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I m' han <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_5" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_5"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_5" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">negà</a> l' amure,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">La testa a j' ho "<a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_6" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_6"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_6" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">tajè</a>.<span class="linenum">6</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0">"Ch' u 'm <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_7" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_7"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_7" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">digga lü, Sior</a> Conte;<span class="linenum">7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ch' u 'm lassa la <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_8" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_8"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_8" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">so' spà</a>."<span class="linenum">8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh dimì ti, Monfrenna,<span class="linenum">9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cosa ch' a 't na <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_10" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_10"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_10" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">voi fa'</a>?"<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A voi <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_11" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_11"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_11" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">tajè</a> 'na frasca,<span class="linenum">11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Per ombra al me' <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_12" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_12"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_12" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">cavà</a>."<span class="linenum">12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lesta con la <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_13" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_13"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_13" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">spadenna</a><span class="linenum">13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Al cor a j' ha passà.<!-- Page 393 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span><span class="linenum">14</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Va là, va là, Sior Conte,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Va là 'nte quei <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_16" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_16"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_16" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">boscon</a>;<span class="linenum">16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Le <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_17" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_17"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_17" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">spenni</a> e li serpenti<span class="linenum">17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saran <a name="LNanchor_IIIA_23_18" id="LNanchor_IIIA_23_18"></a><a href="#Linenote_IIIA_23_18" class="lnanchor" title="link to note">toi</a> compagnon."<span class="linenum">18</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="linenote"> +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_1" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_1"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_1" title="link to line number">1</a> guarda ben, Monferina.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_2" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_2"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_2" title="link to line number">2</a> quel castello.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_3" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_3"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_3" title="link to line number">3</a> fanciulle.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_4" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_4"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_4" title="link to line number">4</a> menate io.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_5" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_5"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_5" title="link to line number">5</a> negato.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_6" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_6"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_6" title="link to line number">6</a> tagliato.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_7" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_7"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_7" title="link to line number">7</a> dica lei, signor.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_8" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_8"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_8" title="link to line number">8</a> sua spada.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_10" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_10"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_10" title="link to line number">10</a> vuoi fare.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_11" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_11"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_11" title="link to line number">11</a> tagliare.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_12" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_12"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_12" title="link to line number">12</a> cavallo.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_13" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_13"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_13" title="link to line number">13</a> spadina.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_16" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_16"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_16" title="link to line number">16</a> (<i>boscon</i>) cespugli.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_17" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_17"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_17" title="link to line number">17</a> spine.</p> + +<p><a name="Linenote_IIIA_23_18" id="Linenote_IIIA_23_18"></a><a href="#LNanchor_IIIA_23_18" title="link to line number">18</a> tuoi.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="long" /> +<p><!-- Page 395 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="GLOSSARY" id="GLOSSARY"></a>GLOSSARY.</h3> + + +<p>☞ Figures placed after words denote the pages in which +they occur.</p> + + +<ul><li>aboon, <i>above</i>, <i>upon</i>.</li> + +<li>abound, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <i>bound</i>.</li> + +<li>abune a' thing, <i>above all things</i>.</li> + +<li>a dee, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <i>to do</i>.</li> + +<li>ae, <i>one</i>.</li> + +<li>aft, <i>oft</i>.</li> + +<li>aith, <i>oath</i>.</li> + +<li>an, <i>if</i>.</li> + +<li>ance, <i>once</i>.</li> + +<li>anent, <i>opposite to</i>.</li> + +<li>are, <i>early</i>.</li> + +<li>assoile, <i>absolve</i>.</li> + +<li>aucht, <i>owns</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">wha is aucht that bairn? <i>who is it owns that child?</i></li> + +<li>ava, <i>of all</i>.</li> + +<li>a-warslin, <i>a wrestling</i>.</li> + +<li>ayont, <i>beyond</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>ba', <i>ball</i>.</li> + +<li>badena, <i>abode not</i>.</li> + +<li>bairn, <i>child</i>.</li> + +<li>baith, <i>both</i>.</li> + +<li>ban, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <i>bond</i>.</li> + +<li>beet, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <i>add fuel</i>.</li> + +<li>bierdly, <i>large and well-made</i>, <i>stately</i>.</li> + +<li>biggins, <i>buildings</i>.</li> + +<li>ben, <i>in</i>, <i>within</i>.</li> + +<li>bestan, <i>best</i>.</li> + +<li>best young man, <i>bridesman</i>.</li> + +<li>bidden, <i>bidding</i>.</li> + +<li>bidene, <i>in a company</i>, <i>forthwith</i> (?)</li> + +<li>billie, <i>comrade</i>, <i>brother</i>.</li> + +<li>binna, <i>beest not</i>.</li> + +<li>birk, <i>birch</i>.</li> + +<li>birling, <i>pouring out</i> [<i>drink</i>], <i>drinking</i>.</li> + +<li>blan, <i>ceased</i>, <i>stopped</i>.</li> + +<li>blate, <i>sheepish</i>, <i>ashamed</i>.</li> + +<li>blear, [noun,] <i>dimness</i>.</li> + +<li>blinkit, <i>blinked</i>, <i>winked</i>.</li> + +<li>blinne, <i>cease</i>.</li> + +<li>borrow, <i>ransom</i>.</li> + +<li>bouerie, <i>chamber</i>.</li> + +<li>boun, <i>ready</i>.</li> + +<li>bour, bower, <i>chamber</i>.</li> + +<li>bra', braw, <i>handsome</i>.</li> + +<li>bracken, <i>female fern</i>.<!-- Page 396 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span></li> + +<li>brae, <i>hill-side</i>.</li> + +<li>braid, <i>broad</i>.</li> + +<li>brain, <i>mad</i>.</li> + +<li>brent, <i>burnt</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_308">308</a>, v. 31, <i>straight</i>?</li> + +<li>bridesteel, (Buchan,) <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <i>bridal</i>?</li> + +<li>brigg, brigue, <i>bridge</i>.</li> + +<li>broo, <i>broth</i>.</li> + +<li>brook, <i>enjoy</i>.</li> + +<li>brunt, <i>burnt</i>.</li> + +<li>buird, <i>board</i>.</li> + +<li>burd, <i>lady</i>.</li> + +<li>burn, <i>brook</i>.</li> + +<li>busking, <i>dressing</i>, <i>making ready</i>.</li> + +<li>but, butt, <i>without</i>.</li> + +<li>but and, <i>and also</i>.</li> + +<li>byre, <i>cow-house</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>ca', <i>call</i>.</li> + +<li>cannel, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>. Qy. a corruption?</li> + +<li>canny, <i>knowing</i>, <i>expert</i>, <i>gentle</i>, <i>adroitly</i>, <i>carefully</i>.</li> + +<li>cast, <i>trick</i>, <i>turn</i>.</li> + +<li>channerin, <i>fretting</i>.</li> + +<li>chap, <i>tap</i>, <i>rap</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">chappit, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <i>tapped</i>, <i>rapped</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">at the chin, <i>should probably be</i> at the pin, <i>or tongue of the latch</i>.</li> + +<li>cheir, <i>cheer</i>.</li> + +<li>claise, <i>clothes</i>.</li> + +<li>clap, <i>fondle</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">clappit, <i>patted</i>, <i>fondled</i>.</li> + +<li>cleading, <i>clothing</i>.</li> + +<li>clecked, <i>hatched</i>.</li> + +<li>cleed, <i>clothe</i>.</li> + +<li>cleiding, <i>clothing</i>.</li> + +<li>clerks, <i>scholars</i>.</li> + +<li>cliding, <i>clothing</i>.</li> + +<li>close, <i>lane</i>.</li> + +<li>cod, <i>pillow</i>.</li> + +<li>coil, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>, <i>cock of hay</i>.</li> + +<li>coost, <i>cast</i>.</li> + +<li>could, <i>used with the infinitive as an auxiliary, to form a past tense</i>.</li> + +<li>crap, <i>crop</i>, <i>top</i>.</li> + +<li>croodlin doo, <i>cooing dove</i>.</li> + +<li>crowse, <i>brisk</i>.</li> + +<li>cuik, <i>cook</i>.</li> + +<li>curches, <i>kerchiefs</i>. R. Jamieson, "<i>linen caps tying under the chin.</i>"</li> + +<li>cuttit, <i>cut</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>dabs, <i>pricks</i>.</li> + +<li>dang, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <i>overcome</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <i>pushed</i>.</li> + +<li>dapperby, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <i>dapper</i>?</li> + +<li>daut, <i>fondle</i>, <i>caress</i>.</li> + +<li>daw, <i>dawn</i>.</li> + +<li>dead, <i>death</i>.</li> + +<li>dear-boucht, <i>dear-bought</i>.</li> + +<li>deas, <i>sometimes a pew in a church</i>.</li> + +<li>dee, <i>die</i>.</li> + +<li>dee, do, <i>avail</i>.</li> + +<li>deid, <i>death</i>.</li> + +<li>deight, dight, <i>decked</i>.</li> + +<li>den, <i>valley</i>.</li> + +<li>depart, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <i>part</i>.</li> + +<li>dight, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <i>skilfully</i>, <i>readily</i>?</li> + +<li>dighted, <i>dressed</i>, <i>wiped</i>.</li> + +<li>dine, <i>dinner</i>.</li> + +<li>ding, <i>strike</i>.</li> + +<li>dinna, <i>do not</i>.<!-- Page 397 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span></li> + +<li>disna, <i>does not</i>.</li> + +<li>dool, <i>sorrow</i>.</li> + +<li>dout, <i>fear</i>.</li> + +<li>dowie, <i>mournful</i>, <i>sad</i>, <i>gloomy</i>.</li> + +<li>downa, <i>cannot</i>.</li> + +<li>dows, <i>doves</i>.</li> + +<li>dreaded, <i>doubted</i>.</li> + +<li>dree, <i>suffer</i>.</li> + +<li>drew up with, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <i>formed relations of love with</i>.</li> + +<li>drie, <i>suffer</i>.</li> + +<li>drumly, <i>troubled</i>.</li> + +<li>dule, <i>grief</i>, <i>sorrow</i>.</li> + +<li>dune, <i>done</i>.</li> + +<li>dwines, <i>dwindles</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>e'e, <i>eye</i>.</li> + +<li>een, <i>eye</i>, <i>eyes</i>.</li> + +<li>eneuch, <i>enough</i>.</li> + +<li>ezer, <i>azure</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>fadge, <i>clumsy woman</i>.</li> + +<li>faem, <i>foam</i>.</li> + +<li>fare, <i>go</i>.</li> + +<li>farrow-cow, <i>a barren cow</i>.</li> + +<li>fee, <i>property</i>, <i>wages</i>.</li> + +<li>fell, <i>hill</i>.</li> + +<li>fell, <i>strange</i>.</li> + +<li>ferra cow, <i>farrow cow</i>, <i>a cow not with calf</i>.</li> + +<li>ffree, <i>noble</i>.</li> + +<li>firstan, firstand, <i>first</i>.</li> + +<li>fit, <i>foot</i>.</li> + +<li>fitches, <a href="#Page_329">329</a>, <i>flitches</i>?</li> + +<li>flang'd, <i>flung</i>.</li> + +<li>fleed, <i>flood</i>.</li> + +<li>foremost man, <i>bridesman</i>.</li> + +<li>forlorn, <i>lost</i>.</li> + +<li>fou, fow, <i>full</i>.</li> + +<li>frush, <i>brittle</i>.</li> + +<li>fur, furrow, <i>a furrows length</i>, <i>furlong</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>gaed, <i>went</i>.</li> + +<li>gair, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <i>gore</i>, <i>strip</i>. See gare.</li> + +<li>gang, <i>go</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">gangs, <i>goes</i>.</li> + +<li>gar, <i>make</i>.</li> + +<li>gare, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <i>gore</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">apparently, here, <i>skirt</i>. So, hung low down by his gair, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <i>by the edge of his frock</i>. The word seems also to be used vaguely in romances for <i>clothing</i>.</li> + +<li>garl, <i>gravel</i>.</li> + +<li>gate, <i>way</i>.</li> + +<li>gear, <i>goods</i>, <i>clothes</i>.</li> + +<li>gin, <i>trick</i>, <i>wile</i>.</li> + +<li>gleed, <i>a burning coal</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1"><a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <i>blaze</i>.</li> + +<li>glent, <i>gleam</i>, <i>glimmer</i>.</li> + +<li>gone, <i>go</i>.</li> + +<li>gowd, <i>gold</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">gowden, <i>golden</i>.</li> + +<li>gowk, <i>fool</i>.</li> + +<li>gravat, <i>cravat</i>?</li> + +<li>greaf, <i>grave</i>.</li> + +<li>greet, <i>cry</i>, <i>weep</i>.</li> + +<li>gris, <i>a costly fur</i>.</li> + +<li>grit, <i>big</i>.</li> + +<li>groom, <i>man</i>.</li> + +<li>gross, <i>heavy</i>.</li> + +<li>gryte, <i>great</i>, <i>big</i>.</li> + +<li>Gude, <i>God</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>ha', <i>hall</i>.</li> + +<li>had her, <i>betook her</i>.</li> + +<li>hallow-days, <i>holidays</i>.<!-- Page 398 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></li> + +<li>haly, <i>holy</i>.</li> + +<li>happit, <i>covered</i>.</li> + +<li>hass, <i>neck</i>.</li> + +<li>haud, <i>hold</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">haud unthought lang, <i>keep from ennui</i>.</li> + +<li>hause, <i>neck</i>.</li> + +<li>head, <i>behead</i>.</li> + +<li>healy, <i>slowly</i>, <i>softly</i>.</li> + +<li>heght, <i>promised</i>.</li> + +<li>her lane, <i>herself alone</i>.</li> + +<li>herried, <i>robbed</i>.</li> + +<li>hich, <i>high</i>.</li> + +<li>hinny, <i>honey</i>.</li> + +<li>hip, <i>the berry which contains the stones or seeds of the dog-rose</i>.</li> + +<li>hooly, <i>slowly</i>, <i>gently</i>.</li> + +<li>how, <i>ho!</i></li> + +<li>hows, <i>hollows</i>, <i>dells</i>.</li> + +<li>howket, <i>dug</i>.</li> + +<li>huggell, <i>huddle</i>, <i>cuddle</i>.</li> + +<li>huly, <i>slowly</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>intill, <i>into</i>, <i>in</i>.</li> + +<li>into, <i>on</i>.</li> + +<li>iwis, <i>certainly</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>jaw, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <i>wave</i>.</li> + +<li>jawing, <i>dashing</i>.</li> + +<li>jimp, <i>slender</i>.</li> + +<li>jo, <i>sweetheart</i>.</li> + +<li>jollie, <i>handsome</i>.</li> + +<li>jow, <i>stroke in tolling</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>kell, <i>caul</i>, <i>a species of cap, or net-work, worn by women as a head-dress</i>.</li> + +<li>kembe, <i>comb</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">kembing, <i>combing</i>.</li> + +<li>kenna, <i>know not</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">kentna, <i>knew not</i>.</li> + +<li>kens, <i>knows</i>.</li> + +<li>kerches, <i>kerchiefs</i>.</li> + +<li>kilted, <i>tucked up</i>.</li> + +<li>kin, <i>kind</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">a' kin, <i>all kind</i>.</li> + +<li>kist, <i>chest</i>.</li> + +<li>kitchey, <i>kitchen</i>.</li> + +<li>know, <i>knoll</i>.</li> + +<li>kye, <i>cows</i>.</li> + +<li>kythe, <i>become</i>, <i>manifest</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>laigh, <i>low</i>.</li> + +<li>lain, <i>alone</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">ye're your lain, <i>you are alone</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">hir lain, <i>her alone</i>.</li> + +<li>lair, <i>learning</i>.</li> + +<li>lane, <i>alone</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">the same in combination with the pronouns <i>my</i>, <i>his</i>, <i>her</i>, <i>its</i>, <i>&c.</i></li> + +<li>lap, <i>leapt</i>.</li> + +<li>latten, <i>let</i>.</li> + +<li>lauch, <i>laugh</i>.</li> + +<li>laumer, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>, <i>amber</i>.</li> + +<li>lave, <i>rest</i>.</li> + +<li>lealest, <i>truest</i>, <i>chastest</i>.</li> + +<li>lear, <i>lore</i>, <i>lesson</i>.</li> + +<li>lease, <i>leash</i>.</li> + +<li>lee, <i>lonesome</i>.</li> + +<li>lee-lang, <i>livelong</i>.</li> + +<li>lei, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <i>lonesome</i>.</li> + +<li>len, <i>lie</i>.</li> + +<li>lent, <i>leaned</i>.</li> + +<li>let, <i>stop</i>, <i>delay</i>.</li> + +<li>leuch, leugh, <i>laughed</i>.</li> + +<li>lichtly, <i>lightly</i>.</li> + +<li>lig, <i>lie</i>.</li> + +<li>lighter, <i>delivered</i>.</li> + +<li>limmers, <i>strumpets</i>.<!-- Page 399 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span></li> + +<li>linn, <i>the pool under a cataract</i>, <i>cataract</i>.</li> + +<li>lith, <i>joint</i>.</li> + +<li>lither, <i>naughty</i>, <i>wicked</i>.</li> + +<li>looten, <i>let</i>.</li> + +<li>loup, <i>leap</i>.</li> + +<li>lourd, <i>liefer</i>, <i>rather</i>.</li> + +<li>louted, <i>bent</i>.</li> + +<li>louze, <i>loosen</i>.</li> + +<li>lykewake, <i>watching of a dead body</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>mae, <i>more</i>.</li> + +<li>maene, moan, <i>lamentation</i>.</li> + +<li>maist, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, maistly, <i>almost</i>.</li> + +<li>make, <i>mate</i>.</li> + +<li>mane, <i>moan</i>.</li> + +<li>maries, <i>maids</i>.</li> + +<li>marrow, <i>mate</i>.</li> + +<li>mat, <i>may</i>.</li> + +<li>maun, <i>must</i>.</li> + +<li>maunna, <i>may not</i>.</li> + +<li>may, <i>maid</i>.</li> + +<li>meen, <i>moan</i>, <i>lament</i>.</li> + +<li>message, <i>messenger</i>.</li> + +<li>micht, <i>might</i>.</li> + +<li>mind, <i>remember</i>.</li> + +<li>mirk, <i>murky</i>.</li> + +<li>mith, <i>might</i>.</li> + +<li>Moll Syms, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <i>a celebrated dance tune of the 16th century</i>.</li> + +<li>mools, <i>the earth of the grave</i>, <i>the dust of the dead</i>.</li> + +<li>mot, <i>may</i>.</li> + +<li>my lane, <i>alone by myself</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>niest, <i>next</i>.</li> + +<li>nourice, <i>nurse</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>oer, ower, <i>over</i>, <i>too</i>.</li> + +<li>ohon, <i>alas</i>.</li> + +<li>owsen, <i>oxen</i>.</li> + +<li>Owsenford, <i>Oxford</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>pa', pall, <i>rich cloth</i>.</li> + +<li>Parish, <i>Paris</i>.</li> + +<li>part, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <i>separate from</i>.</li> + +<li>pat, <i>pot</i>.</li> + +<li>pearlin' gear, <i>pearl ornaments</i>.</li> + +<li>pin, <i>door-latch</i>.</li> + +<li>plat, <i>plaited</i>.</li> + +<li>plea, <i>quarrel</i>.</li> + +<li>pot, <i>a pool</i>, <i>or deep place, in a river</i>.</li> + +<li>prin, <i>pin</i>.</li> + +<li>propine, <i>gift</i>.</li> + +<li>putten down, <i>hung</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>queet, quit, <i>ancle</i>.</li> + +<li>quhair, quhat, quhy, &c., <i>where</i>, <i>what</i>, <i>why</i>, <i>&c.</i></li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>rair'd, <i>roared</i>.</li> + +<li>rave, <i>tore off</i>.</li> + +<li>reavel'd, <i>tangled</i>.</li> + +<li>rede, <i>advice</i>, <i>advise</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">263, <i>story</i>.</li> + +<li>reest, <i>roost</i>.</li> + +<li>renown, [Buchan,] <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <i>haughtiness</i>?</li> + +<li>rigland shire, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>?</li> + +<li>rin, <i>run</i>.</li> + +<li>ritted, <i>routed</i>, <i>struck</i>.</li> + +<li>riv't, <i>tear it</i>.</li> + +<li>row, <i>roll</i>.</li> + +<li>row'd, <i>rolled</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>sabelline, <i>sable</i>.<!-- Page 400 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span></li> + +<li>sanna, <i>shall not</i>.</li> + +<li>sarbit, <i>an exclamation of sorrow</i>.</li> + +<li>sark, <i>shirt</i>.</li> + +<li>saugh, <i>willow</i>.</li> + +<li>scheet, <i>school</i>.</li> + +<li>schill, <i>shrill</i>.</li> + +<li>scug, <i>expiate</i>.</li> + +<li>see, (save and,) <i>protect</i>.</li> + +<li>seen, sen, <i>then</i>, <i>since</i>.</li> + +<li>send, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <i>the messengers sent for the bride at a wedding</i>.</li> + +<li>sets, <i>suits</i>.</li> + +<li>shed by, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <i>parted</i>, <i>put back</i>.</li> + +<li>sheen, <i>shine</i>.</li> + +<li>sheen, <i>shoes</i>.</li> + +<li>sheet, <i>shoot</i>.</li> + +<li>sheuch, <i>furrow</i>, <i>ditch</i>.</li> + +<li>shimmerd, <i>shone</i>.</li> + +<li>shot-window, <i>a projected window</i>.</li> + +<li>sic, <i>such</i>.</li> + +<li>sich, <i>sigh</i>.</li> + +<li>sindle, <i>seldom</i>.</li> + +<li>sinsyne, <i>since</i>.</li> + +<li>skinkled, <i>sparkled</i>.</li> + +<li>slack, <i>a gap or pass between two hills</i>.</li> + +<li>slait, <i>passed across</i>, <i>whetted</i>.</li> + +<li>slap, <i>a narrow pass between two hills</i>.</li> + +<li>smore, <i>smother</i>.</li> + +<li>snood, <i>a fillet or ribbon for the hair</i>.</li> + +<li>socht, <i>sought</i>.</li> + +<li>sorray, <i>sorrow</i>.</li> + +<li>soum, sowm, <i>swim</i>.</li> + +<li>spakes, <i>spokes</i>, <i>bars</i>.</li> + +<li>speer, speir, <i>ask</i>.</li> + +<li>spreckl'd, <i>speckled</i>.</li> + +<li>stap, <i>stuff</i>.</li> + +<li>stean, <i>stone</i>.</li> + +<li>steek'd, <i>fastened</i>.</li> + +<li>stey, <i>steep</i>.</li> + +<li>stint, <i>stop</i>.</li> + +<li>stock, <i>the forepart of a bed</i>.</li> + +<li>stout, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <i>haughty</i>.</li> + +<li>strae, stray, <i>straw</i>.</li> + +<li>straiked, streaked, <i>stroked</i>, <i>drew</i>.</li> + +<li>streek, <i>stretch</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">streekit, <i>stretched</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">streikit, <i>laid out</i>.</li> + +<li>striped, <i>thrust</i>.</li> + +<li>suld, <i>should</i>.</li> + +<li>syke, <i>marshy bottom</i>.</li> + +<li>syne, <i>then</i>, <i>afterwards</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>tane, <i>one</i>, [<i>after the.</i>]</li> + +<li>tasse, <i>cup</i>.</li> + +<li>tate, <i>lock</i> (<i>of hair</i>).</li> + +<li>tee, <i>too</i>.</li> + +<li>teem, <i>empty</i>.</li> + +<li>teen, <i>sorrow</i>, <i>suffering</i>.</li> + +<li>tent, <i>heed</i>.</li> + +<li>thae, <i>these</i>.</li> + +<li>the, <i>thrive</i>.</li> + +<li>thegither, <i>together</i>.</li> + +<li>thir, tho, <i>these</i>, <i>those</i>.</li> + +<li>thorn'd, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <i>eaten</i>?</li> + +<li>thought lang, <i>felt ennui</i>.</li> + +<li>thouth, <i>thought</i>, <i>seemed</i>.</li> + +<li>thraw, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <i>writhe</i>, <i>twist</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">thrawen, <i>crooked</i>.</li> + +<li>thresel-cock, <i>throstle</i>, <i>thrush</i>.</li> + +<li>threw, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <i>throve</i>.</li> + +<li>thrild upon a pinn. See <i>tirled</i> below.<!-- Page 401 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span></li> + +<li>tift, <i>puff</i> (<i>of wind</i>).</li> + +<li>till, <i>to</i>, <i>on</i>.</li> + +<li>tirled at the pin, <i>trilled or rattled, at the door-latch, to obtain entrance</i>.</li> + +<li>tither, <i>other</i>.</li> + +<li>tocher, <i>dowry</i>.</li> + +<li>toomly, <i>empty</i>.</li> + +<li>tow, <i>rope</i>.</li> + +<li>triest, tryst, <i>make an assignation</i>.</li> + +<li>true, <i>trow</i>.</li> + +<li>twain, <i>part</i>.</li> + +<li>twal, <i>twelve</i>.</li> + +<li>twin, <i>part</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">twinn'd, <i>deprived</i>, <i>parted</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>unco, <i>unknown</i>, <i>strange</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>virr, <i>strength</i>.</li> + +<li>vow, <i>interjection of surprise</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>wad, <i>would</i>.</li> + +<li>wadded, <i>wagered</i>, <i>staked</i>.</li> + +<li>wadding, <i>wedding</i>.</li> + +<li>wae, waeful', <i>sad</i>, <i>sorrowful</i>.</li> + +<li>waked, <i>watched</i>.</li> + +<li>walde, <i>would</i>.</li> + +<li>wale, <i>choice</i>.</li> + +<li>wambe, wame, <i>womb</i>.</li> + +<li>wan, <i>reached</i>.</li> + +<li>wand, wandie, <i>bough</i>, <i>wand</i>, <i>stick</i>.</li> + +<li>wan na in, <i>got not in</i>.</li> + +<li>wap, <i>throw</i>.</li> + +<li>wappit, <i>beat</i>, <i>fluttered</i>.</li> + +<li>warde, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <i>advise</i>, <i>forewarn</i>.</li> + +<li>wark, <i>work</i>.</li> + +<li>warlock, <i>wizzard</i>.</li> + +<li>warstan, <i>worst</i>.</li> + +<li>warstled, <i>wrestled</i>.</li> + +<li>wat, <i>know</i>.</li> + +<li>water-kelpy, <i>a malicious spirit thought to haunt fords and ferries, especially in storms, and to swell the waters beyond their ordinary limit, for the destruction of luckless travellers</i>.</li> + +<li>wavers, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <i>wanders</i>.</li> + +<li>wa'-wight, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>, <i>waled</i>, <i>picked</i>, <i>strong-men or warriors</i>. See vol. vi. 220, v. 15.</li> + +<li>wean, <i>child</i>.</li> + +<li>wee, <i>little</i>.</li> + +<li>weed, <i>dress</i>.</li> + +<li>weir-horse, <i>war-horse</i>.</li> + +<li>werne, <i>were</i>.</li> + +<li>wha is aught, <i>who is it owns</i>.</li> + +<li>whang, <i>thong</i>.</li> + +<li>whaten, <i>what</i>.</li> + +<li>wicht, <i>strong</i>, <i>agile</i>.</li> + +<li>widdershins, <i>the contrary way</i>, <i>round about</i>.</li> + +<li>wide, <i>wade</i>.</li> + +<li>wight, <i>strong</i>, <i>agile</i>.</li> + +<li>win, <i>arrive</i>, <i>reach</i>, <i>come</i>, <i>get</i>.</li> + +<li>winna, <i>will not</i>.</li> + +<li>winsome, <i>charming</i>, <i>attractive</i>.</li> + +<li>woe, <i>sad</i>.</li> + +<li>won up, <i>got up</i>.</li> + +<li>wood, <i>mad</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">wood-wroth, <i>mad with anger</i>.</li> + +<li>worth, <i>be</i>;</li> +<li class="indent1">wae worth you <i>sorrow come upon you</i>.</li> + +<li>wow, <i>alas</i>.<!-- Page 402 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span></li> + +<li>wraith, <i>wroth</i>.</li> + +<li>wrongous, <i>wrong</i>.</li> + +<li>wull, <i>will</i>.</li> + +<li>wyte, <i>punish</i>, <i>blame</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>yae, <i>every</i>.</li> + +<li>yare, <i>ready</i>.</li> + +<li>yeats, yetts, <i>gates</i>.</li> + +<li>yestreen, <i>yesterday</i>.</li> + +<li>yird-fast, <i>fixed in the earth</i>.</li> + +<li>yode, <i>went</i>.</li> + +<li>yont, <i>beyond</i>, <i>further off</i>.</li> + +<li>Yule, <i>Christmas</i>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li>ze, zet, zour, &c., <i>ye</i>, <i>yet</i>, <i>your</i>.</li> +</ul> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="trans-note"> +<h4><a name="Transcribers_Notes" id="Transcribers_Notes"></a>Transcriber's Notes</h4> + +<p>Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers +and punctuation have been corrected without comment. Where changes +have been made to the wording these are listed as follows:</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, line 33: added missing opening quotation mark ("But look that +ye tell na Gib your man,...)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, line note 157: reference originally read "177".</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, line 47, 48: added missing quotation marks (Lye yont, lye yont, +Willie," she says, / "For your sweat I downa bide O.")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, line 97: added final comma ("Now haud your tongue, my lord," she +said, ...)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, line 58, 59: removed unnecessary quotation mark ("Get up, and +let me in!— / Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, ...)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, line 71: deleted duplicate "the" (Out o' the lady's grave +grew a bonny red rose).</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, line 50: deleted erroneous closing quotation mark (Says, +"What means a' this mourning?)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, line 41 and page 396: "dapperpy" appears in text but is "dapperby" in the Glossary (O he has pou'd +aff his dapperpy coat, ...)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, line 41: added open quotation mark ("And quhat wul ze leive to +zour bairns and zour wife,)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_263">263</a> line 16: added missing period (A playing at the ba'."—)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, line 24: changed "Doan" to "Doun" (Doun by the greenwud +sae bonnie)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_300">300</a>: added missing closing quotation mark (... taken place in +Bothwell church." SCOTT.)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, line 11: changed "Majorie" to "Marjorie" (That Lady +Marjorie she gaes wi' child, ...)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_347">347</a>: heading "Book IV" removed. Note that it does not appear in the +Table of Contents and there are several references to ballads and page +numbers after this point as part of the Appendix. Note also that Volume +3 starts with "Book III (continued)".</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, line 42: added closing quotation mark ("Where leav'st thou thy +youthful daughter, / Merry son of mine?")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_401">401</a>, changed "widdershius" to "widdershins" (widdershins, <i>the +contrary way</i>, <i>round about</i>.)</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads, Volume +II (of 8), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOL 2 OF 8 *** + +***** This file should be named 37738-h.htm or 37738-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/7/3/37738/ + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Marilynda +Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: English and Scottish Ballads, Volume II (of 8) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis James Child + +Release Date: October 12, 2011 [EBook #37738] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOL 2 OF 8 *** + + + + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Marilynda +Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +In this Plain Text version, the ASCII character set has +been used; italic typeface is represented by _surrounding +underscores_; small caps typeface is represented by ALL CAPS. + +The following substitutions are used to represent Latin-1 symbols: + + [a'] a-grave [e'] e-grave [i'] i-grave + [:a] a-umlaut [:o] o-umlaut [:u] u-umlaut + ['e] e-acute ['i] i-acute + [oa] a-ring + [ae] ae-ligature + [~n] n-tilde + +Linenotes have been grouped at the end of each ballad. Linenote +anchors in the form [L##] have been added to the text (they are not +in the original but alert the reader to the presence of a note +refering to line number ##). + +Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers, +punctuation or inconsistent formatting have been corrected without +comment. Where changes have been made to the wording these are +listed at the end of the book. + + * * * * * + + ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH + BALLADS. + + EDITED BY + + FRANCIS JAMES CHILD. + + VOLUME II. + + BOSTON: + LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY. + M.DCCC.LX. + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by LITTLE, + BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of + Massachusetts. + + RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY + H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND. + + + BOOK II. + + Page + + 1 a. Glasgerion 3 + 1 b. Glenkindie 8 + 2 a. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard 15 + 2 b. Lord Randal (A) 22 + 3 a. Gil Morrice 28 + 3 b. Child Noryce 40 + 4. Clerk Saunders 45 + 5 a. Sweet Willie and Lady Margerie 53 + 5 b. Willie and Lady Maisry 57 + 6. The Clerk's Twa Sons o' Owsenford 63 + 7. Childe Vyet 72 + 8. Lady Maisry 78 + 9 a. Fair Janet 86 + 9 b. Sweet Willie 93 + 10 a. Fair Annie of Lochroyan 98 + 10 b. The Lass of Lochroyan 106 + 11. The Douglas Tragedy 114 + 12 a. Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor 121 + 12 b. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 125 + 12 c. Sweet Willie and Fair Annie 131 + 12 d. Fair Margaret and Sweet William 140 + 13 a. Sweet William's Ghost 145 + 13 b. William and Marjorie 149 + 13 c. Sweet William and May Margaret 152 + 14 a. Bonny Barbara Allan 155 + 14 b. Barbara Allen's Cruelty 158 + 15. Lord Lovel 162 + 16 a. Lord Salton and Auchanachie, [Maidment] 165 + 16 b. Lord Salton and Auchanachie, [Buchan] 167 + 17 a. Willie and May Margaret 171 + 17 b. The Drowned Lovers 175 + 18. Willie's Drowned in Gamery 181 + 19. Annan Water 186 + 20 a. Andrew Lammie 190 + 20 b. The Trumpeter of Fyvie 201 + 21. Fair Helen of Kirconnel 207 + 22. The Lowlands of Holland 213 + + + BOOK III. + + 1 a. The Twa Brothers 219 + 1 b. Edward, Edward 225 + 1 c. Son Davie, Son Davie 228 + 2 a. The Cruel Sister 231 + 2 b. The Twa Sisters 238 + 3 a. Lord Donald 244 + 3 b. Lord Randal (B) 248 + 4 a. The Cruel Brother, [Jamieson] 251 + 4 b. The Cruel Brother, [Herd] 257 + 5 a. Lady Anne 262 + 5 b. Fine Flowers in the Valley 265 + 5 c. The Cruel Mother, [Motherwell] 267 + 5 d. The Cruel Mother, [Kinloch] 269 + 6. May Colvin 271 + 7 a. Babylon 277 + 7 b. Duke of Perth's Three Daughters 281 + 8. Jellon Grame 285 + 9. Young Johnstone 291 + 10. Young Benjie 298 + + + APPENDIX. + + Lord Barnaby 307 + Child Maurice 313 + Clerk Saunders 318 + Lord Wa'yates and Auld Ingram 326 + Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry 332 + Lady Marjorie 338 + Leesome Brand 342 + The Youth of Rosengord 347 + The Blood-Stained Son 350 + The Twa Brothers 353 + The Miller and the King's Daughter 357 + The Bonny Bows o' London 360 + The Croodlin Doo 363 + The Snake-Cook 364 + The Child's Last Will 366 + The Three Knights 368 + The Cruel Mother 372 + The Minister's Dochter o' Newarke 376 + Bondsey and Maisry 379 + Ladye Diamond 382 + The West-Country Damosel's Complaint 384 + The Brave Earl Brand and the King of England's Daughter 388 + La Vendicatrice--supplement to May Colvin 392 + + + GLOSSARY 395 + + + + +BOOK II. + + + + +GLASGERION. + + +The two following ballads have the same subject, and perhaps had a +common original. The "Briton GLASKYRION" is honourably mentioned as +a harper by Chaucer, in company with Chiron, Orion, and Orpheus, +(_House of Fame_, B. iii. v. 118,) and with the last he is also +associated, as Mr. Finlay has pointed out, by Bishop Douglas, in the +_Palice of Honour_. "The Scottish writers," says Jamieson, "adapting +the name to their own meridian, call him GLENKINDY, GLENSKEENIE, +&c." + +_Glasgerion_ is reprinted from Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 83. + + Glasgerion was a kings owne sonne, + And a harper he was goode; + He harped in the kings chambere, + Where cuppe and caudle stoode, + And soe did hee in the queens chambere, 5 + Till ladies waxed wood, + + And then bespake the kinges daughter, + And these wordes thus shee sayd:-- + + "Strike on, strike on, Glasgerion, + Of thy striking doe not blinne; 10 + Theres never a stroke comes oer thy harpe, + But it glads my hart withinne." + + "Faire might him fall,[L13] ladye," quoth hee, + "Who taught you nowe to speake! + I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yeere, 15 + My harte I neere durst breake." + + "But come to my bower, my Glasgerion, + When all men are att rest: + As I am a ladie true of my promise, + Thou shalt bee a welcome guest." 20 + + Home then came Glasgerion, + A glad man, lord! was hee: + "And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy, + Come hither unto mee. + + "For the kinges daughter of Normandye 25 + Hath granted mee my boone; + And att her chambere must I bee + Beffore the cocke have crowen." + + "O master, master," then quoth hee, + "Lay your head downe on this stone; 30 + For I will waken you, master deere, + Afore it be time to gone." + + But up then rose that lither ladd, + And hose and shoone did on; + A coller he cast upon his necke, 35 + Hee seemed a gentleman. + + And when he came to the ladyes chamber, + He thrild upon a pinn: + The lady was true of her promise, + And rose and lett him inn. 40 + + He did not take the lady gaye + To boulster nor to bed: + [Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille, + A single word he sed.] + + He did not kisse that ladyes mouthe, 45 + Nor when he came, nor yode: + And sore that ladye did mistrust, + He was of some churls bloud. + + But home then came that lither ladd, + And did off his hose and shoone; 50 + And cast the coller from off his necke: + He was but a churl[e']s sonne. + + "Awake, awake, my deere master, + The cock hath well-nigh crowen; + Awake, awake, my master deere, 55 + I hold it time to be gone. + + "For I have saddled your horsse, master, + Well bridled I have your steede, + And I have served you a good breakfast, + For thereof ye have need." 60 + + Up then rose good Glasgerion, + And did on hose and shoone, + And cast a coller about his necke: + For he was a kinge his sonne. + + And when he came to the ladyes chambere, 65 + He thrilled upon the pinne; + The ladye was more than true of promise, + And rose and let him inn. + + "O whether have you left with me + Your bracelet or your glove? 70 + Or are you returned back againe + To know more of my love?" + + Glasgerion swore a full great othe, + By oake, and ashe, and thorne; + "Ladye, I was never in your chambere, 75 + Sith the time that I was borne." + + "O then it was your lither[L77] foot-page, + He hath beguiled mee:" + Then shee pulled forth a little pen-kn[i']ffe, + That hanged by her knee. 80 + + Sayes, "there shall never noe churl[e']s blood + Within my bodye spring: + No churl[e']s blood shall e'er defile + The daughter of a kinge." + + Home then went Glasgerion, 85 + And woe, good lord! was hee: + Sayes, "come thou hither, Jacke my boy, + Come hither unto mee. + + "If I had killed a man to-night, + Jack, I would tell it thee: 90 + But if I have not killed a man to-night, + Jacke, thou hast killed three." + + And he puld out his bright browne sword, + And dryed it on his sleeve, + And he smote off that lither ladds head, 95 + Who did his ladye grieve. + + He sett the swords poynt till his brest, + The pummil untill a stone: + Throw the falsenesse of that lither ladd, + These three lives werne all gone. 100 + +13, him fall. + +77, MS. litle. + + + + +GLENKINDIE. + + From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 91. The copy in the + _Thistle of Scotland_, p. 31, is the same. + + + Glenkindie was ance a harper gude, + He harped to the king; + And Glenkindie was ance the best harper + That ever harp'd on a string. + + He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water,[L5] 5 + Or water out o' a stane; + Or milk out o' a maiden's breast, + That bairn had never nane. + + He's taen his harp intil his hand, + He harpit and he sang; 10 + And ay as he harpit to the king, + To haud him unthought lang. + + "I'll gie you a robe, Glenkindie, + A robe o' the royal pa', + Gin ye will harp i' the winter's night 15 + Afore my nobles a'." + + And the king but and his nobles a'[L17] + Sat birling at the wine; + And he wad hae but his ae dochter, + To wait on them at dine. 20 + + He's taen his harp intill his hand, + He's harpit them a' asleep, + Except it was the young countess, + That love did waukin keep. + + And first he has harpit a grave tune,[L25] 25 + And syne he has harpit a gay; + And mony a sich atween hands + I wat the lady gae. + + Says, "Whan day is dawen, and cocks hae crawen, + And wappit their wings sae wide, 30 + It's ye may come to my bower door, + And streek you by my side. + + "But look that ye tell na Gib your man, + For naething that ye dee; + For, an ye tell him, Gib your man, 35 + He'll beguile baith you and me." + + He's taen his harp intill his hand; + He harpit and he sang; + And he is hame to Gib his man, + As fast as he could gang. 40 + + "O mith I tell you, Gib, my man, + Gin I a man had slain?" + "O that ye micht, my gude master, + Altho' ye had slain ten." + + "Then tak ye tent now, Gib, my man, 45 + My bidden for to dee; + And, but an ye wauken me in time, + Ye sall be hangit hie. + + "Whan day has dawen, and cocks hae crawen, + And wappit their wings sae wide, 50 + I'm bidden gang till yon lady's bower, + And streek me by her side." + + "Gae hame to your bed, my good master; + Ye've waukit, I fear, o'er lang; + For I'll wauken you in as good time, 55 + As ony cock i' the land." + + He's taen his harp intill his hand, + He harpit and he sang, + Until he harpit his master asleep, + Syne fast awa did gang. 60 + + And he is till that lady's bower, + As fast as he could rin; + When he cam till that lady's bower, + He chappit at the chin.[L64] + + "O wha is this," says that lady, 65 + "That opens nae and comes in?" + "It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love, + O open and lat me in!" + + She kent he was nae gentle knicht + That she had latten in; 70 + For neither whan he gaed nor cam, + Kist he her cheek or chin. + + He neither kist her whan he cam, + Nor clappit her when he gaed; + And in and at her bower window, 75 + The moon shone like the gleed. + + "O, ragged is your hose, Glenkindie, + And riven is your sheen, + And reavel'd is your yellow hair + That I saw late yestreen." 80 + + "The stockings they are Gib my man's, + They came first to my hand; + And this is Gib my man's shoon; + At my bed feet they stand. + I've reavell'd a' my yellow hair 85 + Coming against the wind." + + He's taen the harp intill his hand, + He harpit and he sang, + Until he cam to his master, + As fast as he could gang. 90 + + "Won up, won up, my good master; + I fear ye sleep o'er lang; + There's nae a cock in a' the land + But has wappit his wings and crawn." + + Glenkindie's tane his harp in hand, 95 + He harpit and he sang, + And he has reach'd the lady's bower, + Afore that e'er he blan. + + When he cam to the lady's bower, + He chappit at the chin; 100 + "O, wha is that at my bower door, + That opens na and comes in?" + "It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love, + And in I canna win." + + * * * * * + + "Forbid it, forbid it," says that lady, 105 + "That ever sic shame betide; + That I should first be a wild loon's lass, + And than a young knight's bride." + + There was nae pity for that lady, + For she lay cald and dead; 110 + But a' was for him, Glenkindie, + In bower he must go mad. + + He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water; + The water out o' a stane; + The milk out o' a maiden's breast, 115 + That bairn had never nane. + + He's taen his harp intill his hand; + Sae sweetly as it rang, + And wae and weary was to hear + Glenkindie's dowie sang.[L120] 120 + + But cald and dead was that lady, + Nor heeds for a' his maen; + An he wad harpit till domisday, + She'll never speak again. + + He's taen his harp intill his hand; 125 + He harpit and he sang; + And he is hame to Gib his man + As fast as he could gang. + + "Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man, + Till I pay you your fee; 130 + Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man; + Weel payit sall ye be!" + + And he has taen him, Gib, his man, + And he has hang'd him hie; + And he's hangit him o'er his ain yate, 135 + As high as high could be. + +5-8, These feats are all but equalled by the musician in the Swedish +and Danish _Harpans Kraft_. + + "He harped the bark from every tree, + And he harped the young from folk and from fee. + + "He harped the hind from the wild-wood home, + He harped the bairn from its mother's womb." + ARWIDSSON, No. 149. + + "Villemand takes his harp in his hand, + He goes down by the water to stand. + + "He struck the harp with his hand, + And the fish leapt out upon the strand." + GRUNDTVIG, No. 40. + +17-20. This stanza is found in the opening of _Brown Robin_, which +commences thus:-- + + "The king but and his nobles a' + Sat birling at the wine, [_bis_] + He would hae nane but his ae daughter + To wait on them at dine. + + "She served them but, she served them ben, + Intill a gown o' green; + But her e'e was ay on Brown Robin, + That stood low under the rain," &c. J. + + +25-28. The following stanza occurs in one of the editor's copies of +_The Gay Gosshawk_:-- + + "O first he sang a merry song, + And then he sang a grave; + And then he pecked his feathers gray, + To her the letter gave." J. + +64, at the chin. Sic. + +120. This stanza has been altered, to introduce a little variety, +and prevent the monotonous tiresomeness of repetition. J. + + + + +THE OLD BALLAD OF LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND THE LADY BARNARD. + + +The popularity of this ancient ballad is evinced by its being +frequently quoted in old plays. In Beaumont and Fletcher's _Knight +of the Burning Pestle_, (produced in 1611,) the fourteenth stanza is +cited, thus: + + "And some they whistled and some they sung, + _Hey, down, down!_ + And some did loudly say, + Ever as the lord Barnet's horn blew, + Away, Musgrave, away." + _Act V. Scene 3._ + + +The oldest known copy of this piece is found in _Wit Restor'd_, +(1658,) p. 174, and from the reprint of that publication we have +taken it, (p. 293.) Dryden seems to have adopted it from the same +source into his _Miscellanies_, and Ritson has inserted Dryden's +version in _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, ii. 116. Percy's copy +(_Reliques_, iii. 106,) was inferior to the one here used, and was +besides somewhat altered by the editor. + +A Scottish version, furnished by Jamieson, is given in the Appendix +to this volume, and another, extending to forty-eight stanzas, in +_Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, Percy Society, +vol. xvii. p. 21. + +Similar incidents, with a verbal coincidence in one stanza, occur in +the ballad immediately succeeding the present. + + As it fell one holy-day, _hay downe_, + As manybe in the yeare, + When young men and maids together did goe, + Their mattins and masse to heare, + + Little Musgrave came to the church dore, 5 + The preist was at private masse; + But he had more minde of the faire women, + Then he had of our ladys[L8] grace. + + The one of them was clad in green, + Another was clad in pall;[L10] 10 + And then came in my lord Barnards[L11] wife, + The fairest amonst them all. + + She cast an eye on little Musgrave, + As bright as the summer sun, + And then bethought this little Musgrave, 15 + "This ladys heart have I woonn." + + Quoth she, "I have loved thee, little Musgrave, + Full long and many a day:" + "So have I loved you, fair lady, + Yet never word durst I say." 20 + + "I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery, + Full daintyly it is deight;[L22] + If thou wilt wend thither, thou little Musgrave, + Thou's lig in mine armes all night." + + Quoth he, "I thank yee, faire lady, 25 + This kindnes thou showest to me; + But whether it be to my weal or woe, + This night I will lig[L28] with thee." + + All that heard[L29] a little tinny page, + By his ladyes coach as he ran: 30 + [Quoth he,] "allthough I am my ladyes foot-page, + Yet I am lord Barnards man. + + "My lord Barnard shall knowe of this, + Whether I sink or swimm:"[L34] + And ever where the bridges were broake, 35 + He laid him downe to swimme. + + "Asleepe, awake![L37] thou lord Barnard, + As thou art a man of life; + For little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery, + Abed with thy own wedded wife." 40 + + "If this be true, thou little tinny page, + This thing thou tellest to mee, + Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery + I freely will give to thee. + + "But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page, 45 + This thing thou tellest to me, + On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery + There hanged shalt thou be." + + He called up his merry men all:-- + "Come saddle me my steed; 50 + This night must I to Buckellsfordbery, + For I never had greater need." + + And some of them whistl'd, and some of them sung, + And some these words did say, + Ever[L55] when my lord Barnards horn blew, 55 + "Away, Musgrave, away!" + + "Methinks I hear the thresel-cock, + Methinks I hear the jaye; + Methinks I hear my Lord Barnard,-- + And I would I were away." 60 + + "Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrave, + And huggell me from the cold; + Tis nothing but a shephards boy, + A driving his sheep to the fold. + + "Is not thy hawke upon a perch? 65 + Thy steed eats oats and hay, + And thou [a] fair lady in thine armes,-- + And wouldst thou bee away?" + + With that my lord Barnard came to the dore, + And lit a stone upon; 70 + He plucked out three silver keys, + And he open'd the dores each one. + + He lifted up the coverlett, + He lifted up the sheet; + "How now, how now, thou little Musgrave, 75 + Doest thou find my lady sweet?" + + "I find her sweet," quoth little Musgrave, + "The more 'tis to my paine; + I would gladly give three hundred pounds + That I were on yonder plaine." 80 + + "Arise, arise, thou littell Musgrave, + And put thy cloth['e]s on; + It shal ne'er be said in my country, + I have killed a naked man. + + "I have two swords in one scabberd, 85 + Full deere they cost my purse; + And thou shalt have the best of them, + And I will have the worse." + + The first stroke that little Musgrave stroke, + He hurt Lord Barnard sore; 90 + The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke, + Little Musgrave ne're struck more. + + With that bespake this faire lady, + In bed whereas she lay; + "Although thou'rt dead, thou little Musgrave, 95 + Yet I for thee will pray; + + "And wish well to thy soule will I, + So long as I have life; + So will I not for thee, Barnard, + Although I am thy wedded wife." 100 + + He cut her paps from off her brest, + (Great pity it was to see,) + That some drops of this ladies heart's blood + Ran trickling downe her knee. + + "Woe worth you, woe worth [you], my mery men all, 105 + You were ne're borne for my good; + Why did you not offer to stay my hand, + When ye saw[L108] me wax so wood! + + "For I have slaine the bravest sir knight + That ever rode on steed; 110 + So have I done the fairest lady + That ever did womans deed. + + "A grave, a grave," Lord Barnard cryd, + "To put these lovers in; + But lay my lady on [the] upper hand, 115 + For she came of the better kin." + +8, lady. + +10, pale. + +11, Bernards. + +22, geight. + +28, wed. + +29, With that he heard: tyne. + +34, sinn. + +37, or wake. + +55, And ever. + +108, see. + + + + +LORD RANDAL (A). + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 162. + + +"The story of this ballad very much resembles that of _Little +Musgrave and Lord Barnard_. The common title is, _The Bonny Birdy_. +The first stanza is sung thus:-- + + 'There was a knight, on a summer's night, + Was riding o'er the lee, _diddle_; + And there he saw a bonny birdy + Was singing on a tree, _diddle_: + O wow for day, _diddle_! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay.' + +In the text, the burden of _diddle_ has been omitted; and the name +of Lord Randal introduced, for the sake of distinction, and to +prevent the ambiguity arising from 'the knight', which is equally +applicable to both." + +The lines supplied by Jamieson have been omitted. + +Allan Cunningham's "improved" version of the _Bonny Birdy_ may be +seen in his _Songs of Scotland_, ii. 130. + + Lord Randal wight, on a summer's night, + Was riding o'er the lee, + And there he saw a bonny birdie + Was singin' on a tree: + + "O wow for day! 5 + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay! + + "Mak haste, mak haste, ye wicht baron; + What keeps ye here sae late? 10 + Gin ye kent what was doing at hame, + I trow ye wad look blate. + + "And O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day. + Gin it were day, and ye were away; 15 + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "O what needs I toil day and night, + My fair body to spill, + When I ha'e knichts at my command, + And ladies at my will?" 20 + + "O weel is he, ye wight baron, + Has the blear drawn o'er his e'e; + But your lady has a knight in her arms twa, + That she lo'es far better nor thee. + + "And O wow for day! 25 + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and ye were away; + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "Ye lie, ye lie, ye bonny birdie; + How you lie upon my sweet; 30 + I will tak out my bonny bow, + And in troth I will you sheet." + + "But afore ye ha'e your bow weel bent, + And a' your arrows yare, + I will flee till anither tree, 35 + Whare I can better fare. + + "And O wow for day + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away; + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" 40 + + "O whare was ye gotten, and where was ye clecked, + My bonny birdie, tell me?" + "O, I was clecked in good green wood, + Intill a holly tree; + A baron sae bald my nest herried, 45 + And ga'e me to his ladie. + + "Wi' good white bread, and farrow-cow milk, + He bade her feed me aft; + And ga'e her a little wee summer-dale wandie, + To ding me sindle and saft. 50 + + "Wi' good white bread, and farrow-cow milk, + I wat she fed me nought; + But wi' a little wee summer-dale wandie, + She dang me sair and oft:-- + Gin she had done as ye her bade, 55 + I wadna tell how she has wrought. + + "And O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and ye were away; + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay." 60 + + Lord Randal rade, and the birdie flew, + The live-lang summer's night, + Till he cam till his lady's bower-door, + Then even down he did light. + The birdie sat on the crap o' a tree, 65 + And I wat it sang fu' dight: + + "O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away; + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" 70 + + * * * * * * * + + "O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and ye were away; + For ye ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "Now Christ assoile me o' my sin," 75 + The fause knight he could say; + "It's nae for nought that the hawk whistles;[L77] + And I wish that I were away! + + "And O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! 80 + Gin it were day, and I were away; + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" + + "What needs ye lang for day, + And wish that ye were away? + Is na your hounds in my cellar 85 + Eating white meal and gray?" + + "Yet, O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay!" 90 + + "Is na your horse in my stable, + Eating good corn and hay? + Is na your hawk on my perch tree, + Just perching for his prey? + And isna yoursel in my arms twa; 95 + Then how can ye lang for day?" + + "Yet, O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + Gin it were day, and I were away, + For I ha'ena lang time to stay. 100 + + "Yet, O wow for day! + And dear gin it were day! + For he that's in bed wi' anither man's wife, + Has never lang time to stay." + + * * * * * * * + + Then out Lord Randal drew his brand, 105 + And straiked it o'er a strae; + And through and through the fause knight's waste + He gar'd cald iron gae; + And I hope ilk ane sall sae be serv'd, + That treats an honest man sae! 110 + +77, This is a proverbial saying in Scotland. J. + + + + +GIL MORRICE. + + +"Of the many ancient ballads which have been preserved by tradition +among the peasantry of Scotland, none has excited more interest in +the world of letters than the beautiful and pathetic tale of _Gil +Morice_; and this, no less on account of its own intrinsic merits as +a piece of exquisite poetry, than of its having furnished the plot +of the justly celebrated tragedy of _Douglas_. It has likewise +supplied Mr. Langhorne with the principal materials from which he +has woven the fabric of his sweet, though prolix poem of _Owen of +Carron_. Perhaps the list could be easily increased of those who +have drawn their inspiration from this affecting strain of Olden +Minstrelsy. + +"If any reliance is to be placed on the traditions of that part of +the country where the scene of the ballad is laid, we will be +enforced to believe that it is founded on facts which occurred at +some remote period of Scottish History. The 'grene wode' of the +ballad was the ancient forest of Dundaff, in Stirlingshire, and Lord +Barnard's Castle is said to have occupied a precipitous cliff, +overhanging the water of Carron, on the lands of Halbertshire. A +small burn, which joins the Carron about five miles above these +lands, is named the Earlsburn, and the hill near the source of that +stream is called the Earlshill, both deriving their appellations, +according to the unvarying traditions of the country, from the +unfortunate Erle's son who is the hero of the ballad. He, also, +according to the same respectable authority, was 'beautiful +exceedingly', and especially remarkable for the extreme length and +loveliness of his yellow hair, which shrouded him as it were a +golden mist. To these floating traditions we are, probably, indebted +for the attempts which have been made to improve and embellish the +ballad, by the introduction of various new stanzas since its first +appearance in a printed form. + +"In Percy's _Reliques_, it is mentioned that it had run through two +editions in Scotland, the second of which appeared at Glasgow in +1755, 8vo.; and that to both there was prefixed an advertisement, +setting forth that the preservation of the poem was owing 'to a +lady, who favoured the printers with a copy, as it was carefully +collected from the mouths of old women and nurses', and requesting +that 'any reader, who could render it more correct or complete, +would oblige the public with such improvements'. This was holding +out too tempting a bait not to be greedily snapped at by some of +those 'Ingenious Hands' who have corrupted the purity of legendary +song in Scotland by manifest forgeries and gross impositions. +Accordingly, sixteen additional verses soon appeared in manuscript, +which the Editor of the _Reliques_ has inserted in their proper +places, though he rightly views them in no better light than that of +an ingenious interpolation. Indeed, the whole ballad of _Gil +Morice_, as the writer of the present notice has been politely +informed by the learned and elegant Editor of the _Border +Minstrelsy_, underwent a total revisal about the period when the +tragedy of _Douglas_ was in the zenith of its popularity, and this +improved copy, it seems, embraced the ingenious interpolation above +referred to. Independent altogether of this positive information, +any one, familiar with the state in which traditionary poetry has +been transmitted to the present times, can be at no loss to detect +many more 'ingenious interpolations', as well as paraphrastic +additions, in the ballad as now printed. But, though it has been +grievously corrupted in this way, the most scrupulous inquirer into +the authenticity of ancient song can have no hesitation in admitting +that many of its verses, even as they now stand, are purely +traditionary, and fair, and genuine parcels of antiquity, unalloyed +with any base admixture of modern invention, and in nowise altered, +save in those changes of language to which all oral poetry is +unavoidably subjected, in its progress from one age to another." +MOTHERWELL. + +We have given _Gil Morrice_ as it stands in the _Reliques_, (iii. +132,) degrading to the margin those stanzas which are undoubtedly +spurious, and we have added an ancient traditionary version, +obtained by Motherwell, which, if it appear short and crude, is at +least comparatively incorrupt. _Chield Morice_, taken down from +recitation, and printed in Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, (p. 269,) +nearly resembles _Gil Morrice_, as here exhibited. We have also +inserted in the Appendix _Childe Maurice_, "the very old imperfect +copy," mentioned in the _Reliques_, and first published from the +Percy MS. by Jamieson. + +The sets of _Gil Morrice_ in the collections of Herd, Pinkerton, +Ritson, &c., are all taken from Percy. + + Gil Morrice was an erles son, + His name it waxed wide: + It was nae for his great riches, + Nor zet his mickle pride; + Bot it was for a lady gay[L5] 5 + That liv'd on Carron side. + + "Quhair sall I get a bonny boy, + That will win hose and shoen; + That will gae to Lord Barnard's ha', + And bid his lady cum? 10 + + "And ze maun rin my errand, Willie, + And ze may rin wi' pride; + Quhen other boys gae on their foot, + On horseback ze sall ride." + + "O no! O no! my master dear! 15 + I dare nae for my life; + I'll no gae to the bauld barons, + For to triest furth his wife." + + "My bird Willie, my boy Willie, + My dear Willie," he sayd: 20 + "How can ze strive against the stream? + For I sall be obeyd." + + "Bot, O my master dear!" he cry'd, + "In grene wod ze're zour lain; + Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede, 25 + For fear ze should be tain." + + "Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha', + Bid hir cum here wi' speid: + If ze refuse my heigh command, + I'll gar zour body bleid. 30 + + "Gae bid hir take this gay mantel, + 'T is a' gowd bot the hem; + Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode, + And bring nane hot hir lain: + + "And there it is, a silken sarke, 35 + Hir ain hand sewd the sleive; + And bid hir cum to Gill Morice, + Speir nae bauld barons leave." + + "Yes, I will gae zour black errand, + Though it be to zour cost; 40 + Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd, + In it ze sall find frost. + + "The baron he is a man of might, + He neir could bide to taunt; + As ze will see, before it's nicht, 45 + How sma' ze hae to vaunt. + + "And sen I maun zour errand rin + Sae sair against my will, + I'se mak a vow and keip it trow, + It sall be done for ill." 50 + + And quhen he came to broken brigue,[L51] + He bent his bow and swam; + And quhen he came to grass growing, + Set down his feet and ran. + + And quhen he came to Barnard's ha', 55 + Would neither chap nor ca'; + Bot set his bent bow to his breist, + And lichtly lap the wa'. + + He wauld nae tell the man his errand, + Though he stude at the gait; 60 + Bot straiht into the ha' he cam, + Quhair they were set at meit. + + "Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame! + My message winna waite; + Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod, 65 + Before that it be late. + + "Ze're bidden tak this gay mantel, + 'Tis a' gowd bot the hem: + Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode, + Ev'n by your sel alane. 70 + + "And there it is, a silken sarke, + Your ain hand sewd the sleive: + Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice; + Speir nae bauld barons leave." + + The lady stamped wi' hir foot, 75 + And winked wi' hir ee; + But a' that she could say or do, + Forbidden he wad nae bee. + + "It's surely to my bow'r-woman; + It neir could be to me." 80 + "I brocht it to Lord Barnard's lady; + I trow that ze be she." + + Then up and spack the wylie nurse, + (The bairn upon hir knee): + "If it be cum frae Gill Morice, 85 + It's deir welcum to mee." + + "Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse, + Sae loud I heird ze lee; + I brocht it to Lord Barnard's lady; + I trow ze be nae shee." 90 + + Then up and spack the bauld baron, + An angry man was hee; + He's tain the table wi' his foot, + Sae has he wi' his knee, + Till siller cup and ezer[L95] dish 95 + In flinders he gard flee. + + "Gae bring a robe of zour cliding, + That hings upon the pin; + And I'll gae to the gude grene wode, + And speik wi' zour lemman." 100 + + "O bide at hame, now, Lord Barnard, + I warde ze bide at hame; + Neir wyte a man for violence, + That neir wate ze wi' nane." + + Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode, 105 + He whistled and he sang: + "O what mean a' the folk coming? + My mother tarries lang." + + The baron came to the grene wode,[L109] + Wi' mickle dule and care; 110 + And there he first spied Gill Morice + Kameing his zellow hair. + + "Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morice, + My lady loed thee weel; + The fairest part of my bodie 115 + Is blacker than thy heel. + + "Zet neir the less now, Gill Morice, + For a' thy great beautie, + Ze's rew the day ze eir was born; + That head sall gae wi' me." 120 + + Now he has drawn his trusty brand, + And slait it[L122] on the strae; + And thro' Gill Morice' fair body + He's gar cauld iron gae. + + And he has tain Gill Morice' head,[L125] 125 + And set it on a speir: + The meanest man in a' his train + Has gotten that head to bear. + + And he has tain Gill Morice up, + Laid him across his steid, 130 + And brocht him to his painted bowr, + And laid him on a bed. + + The lady sat on castil wa', + Beheld baith dale and doun; + And there she saw Gill Morice' head 135 + Cum trailing to the toun. + + "Far better I loe that bluidy head, + Bot and that zellow hair, + Than Lord Barnard, and a' his lands, + As they lig here and thair." 140 + + And she has tain her Gill Morice, + And kissd baith mouth and chin: + "I was once as fow of Gill Morice, + As the hip is o' the stean. + + "I got ze in my father's house, 145 + Wi' mickle sin and shame; + I brocht thee up in gude green wode, + Under the heavy rain. + + "Oft have I by thy cradle sitten, + And fondly seen thee sleip; 150 + Bot now I gae about thy grave, + The saut tears for to weip." + + And syne she kissd[L153] his bluidy cheik, + And syne his bluidy chin: + "O better I loe my Gill Morice 155 + Than a' my kith and kin!" + + "Away, away, ze il woman,[L157] + And an ill deith mait ze dee: + Gin I had ken'd he'd bin zour son, + He'd neir bin slain for mee." 160 + +5. The stall copies of the ballad complete the stanza thus: + + _His face was fair, lang was his hair, + In the wild woods he staid_; + But his fame was for a fair lady + That lived on Carronside. + +Which is no injudicious interpolation, inasmuch as it is founded +upon the traditions current among the vulgar, regarding Gil Morice's +comely face and long yellow hair. MOTHERWELL. + +51-58. A familiar commonplace in ballad poetry. See _Childe Vyet_, +_Lady Maisry_, _Lord Barnaby_, &c. + +95, mazer. + +109 + + His hair was like the threeds of gold + Drawne frae Minerva's loome; + His lipps like roses drapping dew; + His breath was a' perfume. + + His brow was like the mountain snae + Gilt by the morning beam; + His cheeks like living roses glow; + His een like azure stream. + + The boy was clad in robes of grene, + Sweete as the infant spring; + And like the mavis on the bush, + He gart the vallies ring. + +122, slaited. + +125 + + That sweetly wavd around his face, + That face beyond compare; + He sang sae sweet, it might dispel + A' rage but fell dispair. + +153. Stall copy, And _first_ she kissed. + +157 + + "Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard! + Obraid me not for shame! + Wi' that saim speir, O pierce my heart! + And put me out o' pain. + + "Since nothing bot Gill Morice' head + Thy jelous rage could quell, + Let that saim hand now tak hir life + That neir to thee did ill. + + "To me nae after days nor nichts + Will eir be saft or kind; + I'll fill the air with heavy sighs, + And greet till I am blind." + + "Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt, + Seek not zour death frae me; + I rather lourd it had been my sel + Than eather him or thee. + + "With waefo wae I hear zour plaint; + Sair, sair I rew the deid, + That eir this cursed hand of mine + Had gard his body bleid. + + "Dry up zour tears, my winsome dame, + Ze neir can heal the wound; + Ze see his head upon the speir, + His heart's blude on the ground. + + "I curse the hand that did the deid, + The heart that thocht the ill; + The feet that bore me wi' sik speid, + The comely zouth to kill. + + "I'll ay lament for Gill Morice, + As gin he were mine ain; + I'll neir forget the dreiry day + On which the zouth was slain." + + + + +CHILD NORYCE. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 282. + + +"By testimony of a most unexceptionable description,--but which it +would be tedious here to detail,--the Editor can distinctly trace +this ballad as existing in its present shape at least a century ago, +which carries it decidedly beyond the date of the first printed copy +of _Gil Morice_; and this with a poem which has been preserved but +by oral tradition, is no mean _positive_ antiquity." + +In the Introduction to his collection, Motherwell mentions his +having found a more complete copy of this ballad under the title of +_Babe Nourice_. + + Child Noryce is a clever young man, + He wavers wi' the wind; + His horse was silver shod before, + With the beaten gold behind. + + He called to his little man John, 5 + Saying, "You don't see what I see; + For O yonder I see the very first woman + That ever loved me. + + "Here is a glove, a glove," he said, + "Lined with the silver gris; 10 + You may tell her to come to the merry green wood, + To speak to Child Nory. + + "Here is a ring, a ring," he says, + "It's all gold but the stane; + You may tell her to come to the merry green wood, 15 + And ask the leave o' nane." + + "So well do I love your errand, my master, + But far better do I love my life; + O would ye have me go to Lord Barnard's castel, + To betray away his wife?" 20 + + "O don't I give you meat," he says, + "And don't I pay you fee? + How dare you stop my errand?" he says; + "My orders you must obey." + + O when he came to Lord Barnard's castel, 25 + He tinkled at the ring; + Who was as ready as Lord Barnard[L27] himself + To let this little boy in? + + "Here is a glove, a glove," he says, + "Lined with the silver gris; 30 + You are bidden to come to the merry green wood, + To speak to Child Nory. + + "Here is a ring, a ring," he says, + "It's all gold but the stane: + You are bidden to come to the merry green wood, 35 + And ask the leave o' nane." + + Lord Barnard he was standing by, + And an angry man was he: + "O little did I think there was a lord in this world + My lady loved but me!" 40 + + O he dressed himself in the Holland smocks, + And garments that was gay; + And he is away to the merry green wood, + To speak to Child Nory. + + Child Noryce sits on yonder tree, 45 + He whistles and he sings: + "O wae be to me," says Child Noryce, + "Yonder my mother comes!" + + Child Noryce he came off the tree, + His mother to take off the horse: 50 + "Och alace, alace," says Child Noryce, + "My mother was ne'er so gross." + + Lord Barnard he had a little small sword, + That hung low down by his knee; + He cut the head off Child Noryce, 55 + And put the body on a tree. + + And when he came to his castel, + And to his lady's hall, + He threw the head into her lap, + Saying, "Lady, there is a ball!" 60 + + She turned up the bloody head, + She kissed it frae cheek to chin: + "Far better do I love this bloody head + Than all my royal kin. + + "When I was in my father's castell, 65 + In my virginitie, + There came a lord into the North, + Gat Child Noryce with me." + + "O wae be to thee, Lady Margaret," he said, + "And an ill death may you die; 70 + For if you had told me he was your son, + He had ne'er been slain by me." + +27. This unquestionably should be Lady Barnard, instead of her +lord. See third stanza under. M. + + + + +CLERK SAUNDERS. + + +From the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, (iii. 175,) where it +was first published. It was "taken from Mr. Herd's MSS., with +several corrections from a shorter and more imperfect copy in the +same volume, and one or two conjectural emendations in the +arrangement of the stanzas." + +That that part of the ballad which follows the death of the lovers +is an independent story, is obvious both from internal evidence, and +from the separate existence of those concluding stanzas in a variety +of forms: as, _Sweet William's Ghost_, (_Tea-Table Miscellany_, ii. +142,) _Sweet William and May Margaret_, (Kinloch, p. 241,) _William +and Marjorie_, (Motherwell, p. 186.) Of this second part, Motherwell +observes, that it is often made the tail-piece to other ballads +where a deceased lover appears to his mistress. The two were, +however, combined by Sir Walter Scott, and the present Editor has +contented himself with indicating distinctly the close of the proper +story. + +An inferior copy of _Clerk Saunders_, published by Jamieson, is +inserted in the Appendix, for the sake of a few valuable stanzas. +It resembles the Swedish ballad of _The Cruel Brother_, (_Svenska +Folk-Visor_, iii. 107,) which, however, is much shorter. The edition +of Buchan, (i. 160,) is entirely worthless. A North-Country version +of the First Part is given by Kinloch, _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, +233. + + +PART FIRST. + + Clerk Saunders and may Margaret, + Walked ower yon garden green; + And sad and heavy was the love + That fell thir twa between. + + "A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said, 5 + "A bed for you and me!"-- + "Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret, + "Till anes we married be; + + "For in may come my seven bauld brothers, + Wi' torches burning bright; 10 + They'll say--'We hae but ae sister, + And behold she's wi' a knight!'"-- + + "Then take the sword from my scabbard, + And slowly lift the pin; + And you may swear, and safe your aith, 15 + Ye never let Clerk Saunders in. + + "And take a napkin in your hand, + And tie up baith your bonny een; + And you may swear, and safe your aith, + Ye saw me na since late yestreen."[L20] 20 + + It was about the midnight hour, + When they asleep were laid, + When in and came her seven brothers, + Wi' torches burning red. + + When in and came her seven brothers, 25 + Wi' torches burning bright; + They said, "We hae but ae sister, + And behold her lying with a knight!" + + Then out and spake the first o' them, + "I bear the sword shall gar him die!" 30 + And out and spake the second o' them, + "His father has nae mair than he!" + + And out and spake the third o' them, + "I wot that they are lovers dear!" + And out and spake the fourth o' them, 35 + "They hae been in love this mony a year!" + + Then out and spake the fifth o' them, + "It were great sin true love to twain!" + And out and spake the sixth of them, + "It were shame to slay a sleeping man!" 40 + + Then up and gat the seventh o' them, + And never a word spake he; + But he has striped his bright brown brand + Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye. + + Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turn'd 45 + Into his arms as asleep she lay; + And sad and silent was the night + That was atween thir twae. + + And they lay still and sleeped sound, + Until the day began to daw; 50 + And kindly to him she did say, + "It is time, true love, you were awa." + + But he lay still, and sleeped sound, + Albeit the sun began to sheen; + She looked atween her and the wa', 55 + And dull and drowsie were his een. + + Then in and came her father dear, + Said--"Let a' your mourning be: + I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay, + And I'll come back and comfort thee."-- 60 + + "Comfort weel your seven sons, + For comforted will I never be: + I ween 'twas neither knave nor loon + Was in the bower last night wi' me."-- + +20. In Kinloch's version of this ballad we have an additional stanza +here:-- + + ----"Ye'll take me in your arms twa, + Ye'll carry me into your bed, + And ye may swear, and save your aith, + That in your bour floor I ne'er gae'd." + + +PART SECOND. + + The clinking bell gaed through the town,[L1] + To carry the dead corse to the clay; + And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret's window, + I wot, an hour before the day. + + "Are ye sleeping, Margaret?" he says, 5 + "Or are ye waking presentlie? + Give me my faith and troth again, + I wot, true love, I gied to thee."-- + + "Your faith and troth ye sall never get, + Nor our true love sall never twin, 10 + Until ye come within my bower, + And kiss me cheik and chin."-- + + "My mouth it is full cold, Margaret, + It has the smell, now, of the ground; + And if I kiss thy comely mouth, 15 + Thy days of life will not be lang. + + "O cocks are crowing a merry midnight, + I wot the wild fowls are boding day; + Give me my faith and troth again, + And let me fare me on my way."-- 20 + + "Thy faith and troth thou sall na get, + And our true love shall never twin, + Until ye tell what comes of women, + I wot, who die in strong traiveling." + + "Their beds are made in the heavens high, 25 + Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee, + Weel set about wi' gillyflowers; + I wot sweet company for to see. + + "O cocks are crowing a merry midnight, + I wot the wild fowl are boding day; 30 + The psalms of heaven will soon be sung, + And I, ere now, will be miss'd away."-- + + Then she has ta'en a crystal[L33] wand, + And she has stroken her troth thereon; + She has given it him out at the shot-window, 35 + Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan. + + "I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret; + And aye I thank ye heartilie; + Gin ever the dead come for the quick, + Be sure, Marg'ret, I'll come for thee."-- 40 + + It's hosen and shoon and gown alone, + She climb'd the wall, and follow'd him, + Until she came to the green forest, + And there she lost the sight o' him. + + "Is there ony room at your head, Saunders? 45 + Is there ony room at your feet? + Or ony room at your side, Saunders, + Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?"-- + + "There's nae room at my head, Marg'ret, + There's nae room at my feet; 50 + My bed it is full lowly now: + Amang the hungry worms I sleep. + + "Cauld mould is my covering now, + But and my winding-sheet; + The dew it falls nae sooner down, 55 + Than my resting place is weet. + + "But plait a wand o' bonny birk,[L57] + And lay it on my breast; + And shed a tear upon my grave, + And wish my saul gude rest. 60 + + "And fair Marg'ret, and rare Marg'ret, + And Marg'ret o' veritie, + Gin e'er ye love another man, + Ne'er love him as ye did me."-- + + Then up and crew the milk-white cock, 65 + And up and crew the grey; + Her lover vanish'd in the air, + And she gaed weeping away. + +1. The custom of the passing bell is still kept up in many villages +in Scotland. The sexton goes through the town, ringing a small bell, +and announcing the death of the departed, and the time of the +funeral. SCOTT. + +33. Chrisom. + +57. The custom of binding the new-laid sod of the churchyard with +osiers, or other saplings, prevailed both in England and Scotland, +and served to protect the turf from injury by cattle, or otherwise. +SCOTT. + + + + +SWEET WILLIE AND LADY MARGERIE. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 370. + + +"This Ballad, which possesses considerable beauty and pathos, is +given from the recitation of a lady, now far advanced in years, with +whose grandmother it was a deserved favourite. It is now for the +first time printed. It bears some resemblance to _Clerk Saunders_." + +Subjoined is a different copy from Buchan's _Ballads of the North of +Scotland_. + + + Sweet Willie was a widow's son, + And he wore a milk-white weed O; + And weel could Willie read and write, + Far better ride on steed O. + + Lady Margerie was the first ladye 5 + That drank to him the wine O; + And aye as the healths gaed round and round, + "Laddy, your love is mine O." + + Lady Margerie was the first ladye + That drank to him the beer O; 10 + And aye as the healths gaed round and round, + Laddy, ye're welcome here O. + + "You must come intill my bower, + When the evening bells do ring O; + And you must come intill my bower, 15 + When the evening mass doth sing O." + + He's taen four-and-twenty braid arrows, + And laced them in a whang O; + And he's awa to Lady Margerie's bower, + As fast as he can gang O. 20 + + He set his ae foot on the wa', + And the other on a stane O; + And he's kill'd a' the king's life guards, + He's kill'd them every man O. + + "O open, open, Lady Margerie, 25 + Open and let me in O; + The weet weets a' my yellow hair, + And the dew draps on my chin O." + + With her feet as white as sleet, + She strode her bower within O; 30 + And with her fingers lang and sma', + She's looten sweet Willie in O. + + She's louted down unto his foot, + To lowze sweet Willie's shoon O; + The buckles were sae stiff they wadna lowze, 35 + The blood had frozen in O. + + "O Willie, O Willie, I fear that thou + Hast bred me dule and sorrow; + The deed that thou hast done this nicht + Will kythe upon the morrow." 40 + + In then came her father dear, + And a braid sword by his gare O; + And he's gien Willie, the widow's son, + A deep wound and a sair O. + + "Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says, 45 + "Your sweat weets a' my side O; + Lye yont, lye yont, Willie," she says, + "For your sweat I downa bide O." + + She turned her back unto the wa', + Her face unto the room O; 50 + And there she saw her auld father, + Fast walking up and doun O. + + "Woe be to you, father," she said, + "And an ill deid may you die O; + For ye've killed Willie, the widow's son, 55 + And he would have married me O." + + She turned her back unto the room, + Her face unto the wa' O; + And with a deep and heavy sich, + Her heart it brak in twa O. 60 + + + + +WILLIE AND LADY MAISRY. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 155. + + +_The Bent sae Brown_, in the same volume, p. 30, resembles both +_Clerk Saunders_ and the present ballad, but has a different +catastrophe. + + Sweet Willie was a widow's son, + And milk-white was his weed; + It sets him weel to bridle a horse, + And better to saddle a steed, my dear, + And better to saddle a steed. 5 + + But he is on to Maisry's bower door, + And tirled at the pin; + "Ye sleep ye, wake ye, Lady Maisry, + Ye'll open, let me come in, my dear, + Ye'll open, let me come in." 10 + + "O who is this at my bower door, + Sae well that knows my name?" + "It is your ain true love, Willie, + If ye love me, lat me in, my dear, + If ye love me, lat me in." 15 + + Then huly, huly raise she up, + For fear o' making din; + Then in her arms lang and bent, + She caught sweet Willie in, my dear, + She caught sweet Willie in. 20 + + She lean'd her low down to her toe, + To loose her true love's sheen; + But cauld, cauld were the draps o' bleed, + Fell fae his trusty brand, my dear, + Fell fae his trusty brand. 25 + + "What frightfu' sight is that, my love? + A frightfu' sight to see; + What bluid is this on your sharp brand, + O may ye not tell me, my dear? + O may ye not tell me?" 30 + + "As I came thro' the woods this night, + The wolf maist worried me; + O shou'd I slain the wolf, Maisry? + Or shou'd the wolf slain me, my dear? + Or shou'd the wolf slain me?" 35 + + They hadna kiss'd nor love clapped, + As lovers when they meet, + Till up it starts her auld father, + Out o' his drowsy sleep, my dear, + Out o' his drowsy sleep. 40 + + "O what's become o' my house cock + Sae crouse at ane did craw? + I wonder as much at my bold watch, + That's nae shootin ower the wa', my dear, + That's nae shooting ower the wa'. 45 + + "My gude house cock, my only son, + Heir ower my land sae free; + If ony ruffian hae him slain, + High hanged shall he be, my dear, + High hanged shall he be." 50 + + Then he's on to Maisry's bower door, + And tirled at the pin; + "Ye sleep ye, wake ye, daughter Maisry, + Ye'll open, lat me come in, my dear, + Ye'll open, lat me come in." 55 + + Between the curtains and the wa', + She row'd her true love then; + And huly went she to the door, + And let her father in, my dear, + And let her father in. 60 + + "What's become o' your maries, Maisry, + Your bower it looks sae teem? + What's become o' your green claithing? + Your beds they are sae thin, my dear, + Your beds they are sae thin." 65 + + "Gude forgie you, father," she said, + "I wish ye be't for sin; + Sae aft as ye hae dreaded me, + But never found me wrang, my dear, + But never found me wrang." 70 + + He turn'd him right and round about, + As he'd been gaun awa'; + But sae nimbly as he slippet in, + Behind a screen sae sma', my dear, + Behind a screen sae sma'. 75 + + Maisry thinking a' dangers past, + She to her love did say; + "Come, love, and take your silent rest, + My auld father's away, my dear, + My auld father's away!" 80 + + Then baith lock'd in each other's arms, + They fell full fast asleep; + When up it starts her auld father, + And stood at their bed feet, my dear, + And stood at their bed feet. 85 + + "I think I hae the villain now, + That my dear son did slay; + But I shall be reveng'd on him, + Before I see the day, my dear, + Before I see the day." 90 + + Then he's drawn out a trusty brand, + And stroak'd it o'er a stray; + And thro' and thro' sweet Willie's middle + He's gart cauld iron gae, my dear, + He's gart cauld iron gae. 95 + + Then up it waken'd Lady Maisry, + Out o' her drowsy sleep; + And when she saw her true love slain, + She straight began to weep, my dear, + She straight began to weep. 100 + + "O gude forgie you now, father," she said, + "I wish ye be't for sin; + For I never lov'd a love but ane, + In my arms ye've him slain, my dear, + In my arms ye've him slain." 105 + + "This night he's slain my gude bold watch, + Thirty stout men and twa; + Likewise he's slain your ae brother, + To me was worth them a', my dear, + To me was worth them a'." 110 + + "If he has slain my ae brither, + Himsell had a' the blame; + For mony a day he plots contriv'd, + To hae sweet Willie slain, my dear, + To hae sweet Willie slain. 115 + + "And tho' he's slain your gude bold watch, + He might hae been forgien; + They came on him in armour bright, + When he was but alane, my dear, + When he was but alane." 120 + + Nae meen was made for this young knight, + In bower where he lay slain; + But a' was for sweet Maisry bright, + In fields where she ran brain, my dear, + In fields where she ran brain. 125 + + + + +THE CLERK'S TWA SONS O' OWSENFORD. + + +"This singularly wild and beautiful old ballad," says Chambers, +(_Scottish Ballads_, p. 345,) "is chiefly taken from the recitation +of the editor's grandmother, who learned it, when a girl, nearly +seventy years ago, from a Miss Anne Gray, resident at Neidpath +Castle, Peeblesshire; some additional stanzas, and a few various +readings, being adopted from a less perfect, and far less poetical +copy, published in Mr. Buchan's [_Ancient Ballads and Songs of the +North of Scotland_, i. 281,] and from a fragment in the _Border +Minstrelsy_, entitled _The Wife of Usher's Well_, [vol. i. p. 214, +of this collection,] but which is evidently the same narrative."[A] + + [A] There is to a certain extent a resemblance between this ballad + and the German ballad _Das Schloss in Oesterreich_, found in most of + the German collections, and in Swedish and Danish. + +"The editor has been induced to divide this ballad into two parts, +on account of the _great superiority of what follows over what goes +before, and because the latter portion is in a great measure +independent of the other_, so far as sense is concerned. The first +part is composed of the Peeblesshire version, mingled with that of +the northern editor: the second is formed of the Peeblesshire +version, mingled with the fragment called _The Wife of Usher's +Well_." + +The natural desire of men to hear more of characters in whom they +have become strongly interested, has frequently stimulated the +attempt to continue successful fictions, and such supplements are +proverbially unfortunate. A ballad-singer would have powerful +inducements to gratify this passion of his audience, and he could +most economically effect the object by stringing two ballads +together. When a tale ended tragically, the sequel must of necessity +be a ghost-story, and we have already had, in _Clerk Saunders_, an +instance of this combination. Mr. Chambers has furnished the best +possible reasons for believing that the same process has taken place +in the case of the present ballad, and that the two parts, (which +occur separately,) having originally had no connection, were +arbitrarily united, to suit the purposes of some unscrupulous +rhapsodist. + + +PART FIRST. + + O I will sing to you a sang, + Will grieve your heart full sair; + How the Clerk's twa sons o' Owsenford + Have to learn some unco lear. + + They hadna been in fair Parish 5 + A twelvemonth and a day, + Till the Clerk's twa sons fell deep in love + Wi' the Mayor's dauchters twae. + + And aye as the twa clerks sat and wrote, + The ladies sewed and sang; 10 + There was mair mirth in that chamber, + Than in a' fair Ferrol's land. + + But word's gane to the michty Mayor, + As he sailed on the sea, + That the Clerk's twa sons made licht lemans 15 + O' his fair dauchters twae. + + "If they hae wranged my twa dauchters, + Janet and Marjorie, + The morn, ere I taste meat or drink, + Hie hangit they shall be." 20 + + And word's gane to the clerk himsell, + As he was drinking wine, + That his twa sons at fair Parish + Were bound in prison strang. + + Then up and spak the Clerk's ladye, 25 + And she spak tenderlie: + "O tak wi' ye a purse o' gowd, + Or even tak ye three; + And if ye canna get William, + Bring Henry hame to me." 30 + + O sweetly sang the nightingale, + As she sat on the wand; + But sair, sair mourned Owsenford, + As he gaed in the strand. + + When he came to their prison strang, 35 + He rade it round about, + And at a little shot-window, + His sons were looking out. + + "O lie ye there, my sons," he said, + "For owsen or for kye? 40 + Or what is it that ye lie for, + Sae sair bound as ye lie?" + + "We lie not here for owsen, father; + Nor yet do we for kye; + But it's for a little o' dear-boucht love, 45 + Sae sair bound as we lie. + + "O borrow us, borrow us, father," they said, + "For the luve we bear to thee!" + "O never fear, my pretty sons, + Weel borrowed ye sall be." 50 + + Then he's gane to the michty Mayor, + And he spak courteouslie: + "Will ye grant my twa sons' lives, + Either for gold or fee? + Or will ye be sae gude a man, 55 + As grant them baith to me?" + + "I'll no grant ye your twa sons' lives, + Neither for gold nor fee; + Nor will I be sae gude a man, + As gie them baith to thee; 60 + But before the morn at twal o'clock, + Ye'll see them hangit hie!" + + Ben it came the Mayor's dauchters, + Wi' kirtle coat alone; + Their eyes did sparkle like the gold, 65 + As they tripped on the stone. + + "Will ye gie us our loves, father, + For gold, or yet for fee? + Or will ye take our own sweet lives, + And let our true loves be?" 70 + + He's taen a whip into his hand, + And lashed them wondrous sair; + "Gae to your bowers, ye vile limmers; + Ye'se never see them mair." + + Then out it speaks auld Owsenford; 75 + A sorry man was he: + "Gang to your bouirs, ye lilye flouirs; + For a' this maunna be." + + Then out it speaks him Hynde Henry: + "Come here, Janet, to me; 80 + Will ye gie me my faith and troth, + And love, as I gae thee?" + + "Ye sall hae your faith and troth, + Wi' God's blessing and mine:" + And twenty times she kissed his mouth, 85 + Her father looking on. + + Then out it speaks him gay William: + "Come here, sweet Marjorie; + Will ye gie me my faith and troth, + And love, as I gae thee?" 90 + + "Yes, ye sall hae your faith and troth, + Wi' God's blessing and mine:" + And twenty times she kissed his mouth, + Her father looking on. + + * * * * * + + "O ye'll tak aff your twa black hats, 95 + Lay them down on a stone, + That nane may ken that ye are clerks, + Till ye are putten doun." + + The bonnie clerks they died that morn; + Their loves died lang ere noon; 100 + And the waefu' Clerk o' Owsenford + To his lady has gane hame. + + +PART SECOND. + + His lady sat on her castle wa', + Beholding dale and doun; + And there she saw her ain gude lord + Come walking to the toun. + + "Ye're welcome, ye're welcome, my ain gude lord, 5 + Ye're welcome hame to me; + But where-away are my twa sons? + Ye suld hae brought them wi' ye." + + "O they are putten to a deeper lear, + And to a higher scule: 10 + Your ain twa sons will no be hame + Till the hallow days o' Yule." + + "O sorrow, sorrow, come mak my bed; + And, dule, come lay me doun; + For I will neither eat nor drink, 15 + Nor set a fit on groun'!" + + The hallow days o' Yule were come, + And the nights were lang and mirk, + When in and cam her ain twa sons, + And their hats made o' the birk. 20 + + It neither grew in syke nor ditch, + Nor yet in ony sheuch; + But at the gates o' Paradise + That birk grew fair eneuch. + + "Blow up the fire, now, maidens mine, 25 + Bring water from the well; + For a' my house shall feast this night, + Since my twa sons are well. + + "O eat and drink, my merry-men a', + The better shall ye fare; 30 + For my two sons they are come hame + To me for evermair." + + And she has gane and made their bed, + She's made it saft and fine; + And she's happit them wi' her gay mantil, 35 + Because they were her ain. + + But the young cock crew in the merry Linkum, + And the wild fowl chirped for day; + And the aulder to the younger said, + "Brother, we maun away. 40 + + "The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, + The channerin worm doth chide; + Gin we be missed out o' our place, + A sair pain we maun bide." + + "Lie still, lie still a little wee while, 45 + Lie still but if we may; + Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes, + She'll gae mad ere it be day." + + * * * * * + + O it's they've taen up their mother's mantil, + And they've hung it on a pin: 50 + "O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantil, + Ere ye hap us again." + + + + +CHILDE VYET. + + +First printed in a complete form in Maidment's _North Countrie +Garland_, p. 24. The same editor contributed a slightly different +copy to Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, (p. 173.) An inferior version is +furnished by Buchan, i. 234, and Jamieson has published a fragment +on the same story, here given in the Appendix. + + Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet, + Were both born in ane bower, + Had both their loves on one Lady, + The less was their honour.[L4] + + Childe Vyet and Lord Ingram, 5 + Were both born in one hall, + Had both their loves on one Lady + The worse did them befall. + + Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey, + From father and from mother; 10 + Lord Ingram woo'd the Lady Maiserey, + From sister and from brother. + + Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey, + With leave of all her kin; + And every one gave full consent, 15 + But she said no, to him. + + Lord Ingram wooed the Lady Maiserey, + Into her father's ha'; + Childe Vyet wooed the Lady Maiserey, + Among the sheets so sma'. 20 + + Now it fell out upon a day, + She was dressing her head, + That ben did come her father dear, + Wearing the gold so red. + + "Get up now, Lady Maiserey, 25 + Put on your wedding gown, + For Lord Ingram will be here, + Your wedding must be done!" + + "I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife, + The white fish for to sell, 30 + Before I were Lord Ingram's wife, + To wear the silk so well! + + "I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife, + With him to beg my bread, + Before I'd be Lord Ingram's wife, 35 + To wear the gold so red. + + "Where will I get a bonny boy, + Will win gold to his fee, + Will run unto Childe Vyet's ha', + With this letter from me?" 40 + + "O here, I am the boy," says one, + "Will win gold to my fee, + And carry away any letter, + To Childe Vyet from thee." + + And when he found the bridges broke, 45 + He bent his bow and swam; + And when he found the grass growing, + He hasten'd and he ran. + + And when he came to Vyet's castle, + He did not knock nor call, 50 + But set his bent bow to his breast, + And lightly leaped the wall; + And ere the porter open'd the gate, + The boy was in the hall. + + The first line that Childe Vyet read, 55 + A grieved man was he; + The next line that he looked on, + A tear blinded his e'e. + + "What ails my own brother," he says, + "He'll not let my love be; 60 + But I'll send to my brother's bridal; + The woman shall be free. + + "Take four and twenty bucks and ewes, + And ten tun of the wine, + And bid my love be blythe and glad, 65 + And I will follow syne." + + There was not a groom about that castle, + But got a gown of green; + And a' was blythe, and a' was glad, + But Lady Maiserey was wi' wean.[L70] 70 + + There was no cook about the kitchen, + But got a gown of gray; + And a' was blythe, and a' was glad, + But Lady Maiserey was wae. + + 'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle, 75 + Was all spread o'er with garl,[L76] + To keep the lady and her maidens, + From tramping on the marl.[L78] + + From Mary Kirk to that castle, + Was spread a cloth of gold, 80 + To keep the lady and her maidens, + From treading on the mould. + + When mass was sung, and bells were rung, + And all men bound for bed, + Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maiserey, 85 + In one bed they were laid. + + When they were laid upon their bed, + It was baith soft and warm, + He laid his hand over her side, + Says he, "you are with bairn." 90 + + "I told you once, so did I twice, + When ye came as my wooer, + That Childe Vyet, your one brother, + One night lay in my bower. + + "I told you twice, so did I thrice, 95 + Ere ye came me to wed, + That Childe Vyet, your one brother, + One night lay in my bed!" + + "O will you father your bairn on me, + And on no other man? 100 + And I'll gie him to his dowry, + Full fifty ploughs of land." + + "I will not father my bairn on you, + Nor on no wrongous man, + Tho' you'd gie him to his dowry, 105 + Five thousand ploughs of land." + + Then up did start him Childe Vyet, + Shed by his yellow hair, + And gave Lord Ingram to the heart, + A deep wound and a sair. 110 + + Then up did start him Lord Ingram, + Shed by his yellow hair, + And gave Childe Vyet to the heart, + A deep wound and a sair. + + There was no pity for the two lords, 115 + Where they were lying slain, + All was for Lady Maiserey: + In that bower she gaed brain! + + There was no pity for the two lords, + When they were lying dead, 120 + All was for Lady Maiserey: + In that bower she went mad! + + "O get to me a cloak of cloth, + A staff of good hard tree; + If I have been an evil woman, 125 + I shall beg till I die. + + "For ae bit I'll beg for Childe Vyet, + For Lord Ingram I'll beg three, + All for the honourable marriage, that + At Mary Kirk he gave me!" 130 + +4. The less was their bonheur. MOTHERWELL. + +70, she was neen. Motherwell. + +76, gold. + +78, mould. N. C. G. + + + + +LADY MAISRY. + + +This ballad, said to be very popular in Scotland, was taken down +from recitation by Jamieson, and is extracted from his collection, +vol. i. p. 73. A different copy, from Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. +234, is given in the Appendix. Another, styled _Young Prince James_, +may be seen in Buchan's _Ballads_, vol. i. 103. _Bonnie Susie +Cleland_, Motherwell, p. 221, is still another version. + +In _Lady Maisry_ we seem to have the English form of a tragic story +which, starting from Denmark, has spread over almost all the north +of Europe, that of _King Waldemar and his Sister_. Grundtvig's +collection gives seven copies of the Danish ballad upon this subject +(_Kong Valdemar og hans S[:o]ster_, No. 126), the oldest from a +manuscript of the beginning of the 17th century. Five Icelandic +versions are known, one Norse, one Faroish, five Swedish (four of +them in Arwidsson, No. 53, _Liten Kerstin och Fru Sofia_), and +several in German, as _Graf Hans von Holstein und seine Schwester +Annchristine_, Erk, _Liederhort_, p. 155; _Der Grausame Bruder_, +Erk, p. 153, and Hoffmann, _Schlesische Volkslieder_, No. 27; _Der +Grobe Bruder_, _Wunderhorn_, ii. 272; _Der Pfalzgraf am Rhein_, +_id._ i. 259, etc.; also a fragment in Wendish. The relationship of +the English ballad to the rest of the cycle can perhaps be easiest +shown by comparison with the simplified and corrupted German +versions. + +The story appears to be founded on facts which occurred during the +reign and in the family of the Danish king, Waldemar the First, +sometime between 1157 and 1167. Waldemar is described as being, with +all his greatness, of a relentless and cruel disposition (_in ira +pertinax_; _in suos tantum plus justo crudelior_). Tradition, +however, has imputed to him a brutal ferocity beyond belief. In the +ballad before us, Lady Maisry suffers for her weakness by being +burned at the stake, but in the Danish, Swedish, and German ballads, +the king's sister is beaten to death with leathern whips, by her +brother's own hand. + + "Er schlug sie so sehre, er schlug sie so lang, + Bis Lung und Leber aus dem Leib ihr sprang!" + +The Icelandic and Faroe ballads have nothing of this horrible +ferocity, but contain a story which is much nearer to probability, +if not to historical truth. While King Waldemar is absent on an +expedition against the Wends, his sister Krist['i]n is drawn into a +_liaison_ with her second-cousin, the result of which is the birth +of two children. Sof['i]a, the Queen, maliciously makes the state of +things known to the king the moment he returns (which is on the very +day of Krist['i]n's lying in, according to the Danish ballad), but he +will not believe the story,--all the more because the accused +parties are within prohibited degrees of consanguinity. Krist['i]n is +summoned to come instantly to her brother, and obeys the message, +though she is weak with childbirth, and knows that the journey will +cost her her life. She goes to the court on horseback (in the Danish +ballads falling from the saddle once or twice on the way), and on +her arrival is put to various tests to ascertain her condition, +concluding with a long dance with the king, to which, having held +out for a considerable time, she at last succumbs, and falls dead in +her brother's arms. + +The incidents of the journey on horseback, and the cruel probation +by the dance, are found in the ballad which follows the present +(_Fair Janet_), and these coincidences Grundtvig considers +sufficient to establish its derivation from the Danish. The +_general_ similarity of _Lady Maisry_ to _King Waldemar and his +Sister_ is, however, much more striking. For our part, we are +inclined to believe that _both_ the English ballads had this origin, +but the difference in their actual form is so great, that, +notwithstanding this conviction, we have not felt warranted in +putting them together. + + The young lords o' the north country + Have all a-wooing gane, + To win the love of lady Maisry, + But o' them she wou'd hae nane. + + O thae hae sought her, lady Maisry, 5 + Wi' broaches, and wi' rings; + And they hae courted her, lady Maisry, + Wi' a' kin kind of things. + + And they hae sought her, lady Maisry, + Frae father and frae mither; 10 + And they hae sought her, lady Maisry, + Frae sister and frae brither. + + And they hae follow'd her, lady Maisry, + Thro' chamber, and through ha'; + But a' that they could say to her, 15 + Her answer still was "Na." + + "O haud your tongues, young men," she said, + "And think nae mair on me; + For I've gi'en my love to an English lord, + Sae think nae mair on me." 20 + + Her father's kitchey-boy heard that, + (An ill death mot he die!) + And he is in to her brother, + As fast as gang cou'd he. + + "O is my father and my mother weel, 25 + But and my brothers three? + Gin my sister lady Maisry be weel, + There's naething can ail me." + + "Your father and your mother is weel, + But and your brothers three; 30 + Your sister, lady Maisry's, weel, + Sae big wi' bairn is she." + + "A malison light on the tongue, + Sic tidings tells to me!-- + But gin it be a lie you tell, 35 + You shall be hanged hie." + + He's doen him to his sister's bower, + Wi' mickle dool and care; + And there he saw her, lady Maisry, + Kembing her yellow hair. 40 + + "O wha is aucht that bairn," he says,[L41] + "That ye sae big are wi'? + And gin ye winna own the truth, + This moment ye sall die." + + She's turned her richt and round about, 45 + And the kembe fell frae her han'; + A trembling seized her fair bodie, + And her rosy cheek grew wan. + + "O pardon me, my brother dear, + And the truth I'll tell to thee; 50 + My bairn it is to Lord William, + And he is betrothed to me." + + "O cou'dna ye gotten dukes, or lords, + Intill your ain countrie, + That ye drew up wi' an English dog, 55 + To bring this shame on me? + + "But ye maun gi'e up your English lord, + Whan your young babe is born; + For, gin ye keep by him an hour langer, + Your life shall be forlorn." 60 + + "I will gi'e up this English lord, + Till my young babe be born; + But the never a day nor hour langer, + Though my life should be forlorn." + + "O whare is a' my merry young men, 65 + Wham I gi'e meat and fee, + To pu' the bracken and the thorn, + To burn this vile whore wi'?" + + "O whare will I get a bonny boy, + To help me in my need, 70 + To rin wi' haste to Lord William, + And bid him come wi' speed?" + + O out it spak a bonny boy, + Stood by her brother's side; + "It's I wad rin your errand, lady, 75 + O'er a' the warld wide. + + "Aft ha'e I run your errands, lady, + When blawin baith wind and weet; + But now I'll rin your errand, lady, + With saut tears on my cheek." 80 + + O whan he came to broken briggs, + He bent his bow and swam; + And whan he came to the green grass growin', + He slack'd his shoon and ran. + + And when he came to Lord William's yeats, 85 + He badena to chap or ca'; + But set his bent bow to his breast, + And lightly lap the wa'; + And, or the porter was at the yeat, + The boy was in the ha'. 90 + + "O is my biggins broken, boy? + Or is my towers won? + Or is my lady lighter yet, + O' a dear daughter or son?" + + "Your biggin isna broken, sir, 95 + Nor is your towers won; + But the fairest lady in a' the land + This day for you maun burn." + + "O saddle to me the black, the black, + Or saddle to me the brown; 100 + Or saddle to me the swiftest steed + That ever rade frae a town." + + Or he was near a mile awa', + She heard his weir-horse sneeze; + "Mend up the fire, my fause brother, 105 + It's nae come to my knees." + + O whan he lighted at the yeat, + She heard his bridle ring: + "Mend up the fire, my fause brother; + It's far yet frae my chin. 110 + + "Mend up the fire to me, brother, + Mend up the fire to me; + For I see him comin' hard and fast, + Will soon men't up for thee. + + "O gin my hands had been loose, Willy, 115 + Sae hard as they are boun', + I wadd hae turn'd me frae the gleed, + And casten out your young son." + + "O I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, + Your father and your mother; 120 + And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, + Your sister and your brother; + + "And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, + The chief o' a' your kin; + And the last bonfire that I come to, 125 + Mysell I will cast in." + +v. 41. See preface to _Clerk Saunders_, p. 319. + + + + +FAIR JANET. + +From Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 1. + + +"This ballad, the subject of which appears to have been very +popular, is printed as it was sung by an old woman in Perthshire. +The air is extremely beautiful." + +Herd gave an imperfect version of this ballad under the title of +_Willie and Annet_, in his _Scottish Songs_, i. 219; repeated after +him in Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, and in Johnson's _Museum_. +Finlay's copy, improved, but made up of fragments, follows the +present, and in the Appendix is _Sweet Willie and Fair Maisry_, from +Buchan's collection. We have followed Motherwell by inserting (in +brackets) three stanzas from _Willie and Annet_ and _Sweet Willie_, +which contribute slightly to complete Sharpe's copy. None of these +ballads is satisfactory, though Sharpe's is the best. Touching the +relation of _Fair Janet_ to the Danish ballad of _King Waldemar and +his Sister_, the reader will please look at the preface to the +preceding ballad. + + "Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, + Ye maun gang to him soon; + Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, + In case that his days are dune!" + + Janet's awa' to her father, 5 + As fast as she could hie; + "O what's your will wi' me, father? + O what's your will wi' me?" + + "My will wi' you, Fair Janet," he said, + "It is both bed and board; 10 + Some say that ye lo'e Sweet Willie, + But ye maun wed a French lord." + + "A French lord maun I wed, father? + A French lord maun I wed? + Then, by my sooth," quo' Fair Janet, 15 + "He's ne'er enter my bed." + + Janet's awa' to her chamber, + As fast as she could go; + Wha's the first ane that tapped there, + But Sweet Willie her jo! 20 + + "O we maun part this love, Willie, + That has been lang between; + There's a French lord coming o'er the sea + To wed me wi' a ring; + There 's a French lord coming o'er the sea, 25 + To wed and tak me hame." + + "If we maun part this love, Janet, + It causeth mickle woe; + If we maun part this love, Janet, + It makes me into mourning go." 30 + + "But ye maun gang to your three sisters, + Meg, Marion, and Jean; + Tell them to come to Fair Janet, + In case that her days are dune." + + Willie's awa' to his three sisters, 35 + Meg, Marion, and Jean; + "O haste, and gang to Fair Janet, + I fear that her days are dune." + + Some drew to them their silken hose, + Some drew to them their shoon, 40 + Some drew to them their silk manteils, + Their coverings to put on; + And they're awa' to Fair Janet, + By the hie light o' the moon. + + * * * * * * * + + "O I have born this babe, Willie, 45 + Wi' mickle toil and pain; + Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie, + For nurse I dare be nane." + + He's tane his young son in his arms, + And kist him cheek and chin,-- 50 + And he's awa' to his mother's bower, + By the hie light o' the moon. + + "O open, open, mother," he says, + "O open, and let me in; + The rain rains on my yellow hair, 55 + And the dew drops o'er my chin,-- + And I hae my young son in my arms, + I fear that his days are dune." + + With her fingers lang and sma' + She lifted up the pin; 60 + And with her arms lang and sma' + Received the baby in. + + "Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie, + And comfort your fair lady; + For where ye had but ae nourice, 65 + Your young son shall hae three." + + Willie he was scarce awa', + And the lady put to bed, + When in and came her father dear: + "Make haste, and busk the bride." 70 + + "There's a sair pain in my head, father, + There's a sair pain in my side; + And ill, O ill, am I, father, + This day for to be a bride." + + "O ye maun busk this bonny bride, 75 + And put a gay mantle on; + For she shall wed this auld French lord, + Gin she should die the morn." + + Some put on the gay green robes, + And some put on the brown; 80 + But Janet put on the scarlet robes, + To shine foremost through the town. + + And some they mounted the black steed, + And some mounted the brown; + But Janet mounted the milk-white steed, 85 + To ride foremost through the town. + + "O wha will guide your horse, Janet? + O wha will guide him best?" + "O wha but Willie, my true love, + He kens I lo'e him best!" 90 + + And when they cam to Marie's kirk, + To tye the haly ban, + Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan, + And her colour gaed and cam. + + When dinner it was past and done, 95 + And dancing to begin, + "O we'll go take the bride's maidens, + And we'll go fill the ring." + + O ben than cam the auld French lord, + Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?" + "Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord, 100 + Your face I downa see." + + O ben than cam now Sweet Willie, + He cam with ane advance: + "O I'll go tak the bride's maidens, 105 + And we'll go tak a dance." + + "I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie, + And so has mony mae; + Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel', + Let a' my maidens gae." 110 + + O ben than cam now Sweet Willie, + Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?" + "Aye, by my sooth, and that I will, + Gin my back should break in three." + + [And she's ta'en Willie by the hand, 115 + The tear blinded her e'e; + "O I wad dance wi' my true love, + Tho' bursts my heart in three!"] + + She hadna turned her throw the dance, + Throw the dance but thrice, 120 + Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet, + And up did never rise! + + [She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm, + Her garter frae her knee: + "Gie that, gie that, to my young son; 125 + He'll ne'er his mother see."] + + Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer, + And gi'en it to his man; + "Gae hame, and tell my mother dear, + My horse he has me slain; 130 + Bid her be kind to my young son, + For father he has nane." + + ["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried, + "Gar deal, gar deal the wine; + This day has seen my true love's death, 135 + This night shall witness mine."] + + The tane was buried in Marie's kirk, + And the tither in Marie's quire: + Out of the tane there grew a birk, + And the tither a bonny brier. 140 + + + + +SWEET WILLIE. + + +"This ballad has had the misfortune, in common with many others, of +being much mutilated by reciters. I have endeavoured, by the +assistance of some fragments, to make it as complete as possible; +and have even taken the liberty of altering the arrangement of some +of the stanzas of a lately-procured copy, that they might the better +cohere with those already printed." FINLAY'S _Scottish Ballads_, ii. +61. + + "Will you marry the southland lord, + A queen o' fair England to be? + Or will you mourn for sweet Willie, + The morn upon yon lea?" + + "I will marry the southland lord, 5 + Father, sen it is your will; + But I'd rather it were my burial day, + For my grave I'm going till. + + "O go, O go now my bower wife, + O go now hastilie, 10 + O go now to sweet Willie's bower, + And bid him cum speak to me.-- + + "Now, Willie, gif ye love me weel, + As sae it seems to me, + Gar build, gar build a bonny ship, 15 + Gar build it speedilie! + + "And we will sail the sea sae green + Unto some far countrie; + Or we'll sail to some bonny isle, + Stands lanely midst the sea." 20 + + But lang or e'er the ship was built, + Or deck'd or rigged out, + Cam sic a pain in Annet's back, + That down she cou'dna lout. + + "Now, Willie, gin ye love me weel, 25 + As sae it seems to me, + O haste, haste, bring me to my bower, + And my bower maidens three." + + He's ta'en her in his arms twa, + And kiss'd her cheek and chin, 30 + He's brocht her to her ain sweet bower, + But nae bower maid was in. + + "Now leave my bower, Willie," she said, + "Now leave me to my lane; + Was never man in a lady's bower 35 + When she was travailing." + + He's stepped three steps down the stair, + Upon the marble stane, + Sae loud's he heard his young son greet, + But and his lady mane. 40 + + "Now come, now come, Willie," she said, + "Tak your young son frae me, + And hie him to your mother's bower, + With speed and privacie." + + And he is to his mother's bower, 45 + As fast as he could rin; + "Open, open, my mother dear, + Open, and let me in; + + "For the rain rains on my yellow hair, + The dew stands on my chin, 50 + And I have something in my lap, + And I wad fain be in." + + "O go, O go now, sweet Willie, + And make your lady blithe, + For wherever you had ae nourice, 55 + Your young son shall hae five."-- + + Out spak Annet's mother dear, + An' she spak a word o' pride; + Says, "Whare is a' our bride's maidens, + They're no busking the bride?" 60 + + "O haud your tongue, my mother dear, + Your speaking let it be, + For I'm sae fair and full o' flesh, + Little busking will serve me." + + Out an' spak the bride's maidens, 65 + They spak a word o' pride; + Says, "Whare is a' the fine cleiding? + Its we maun busk the bride." + + "Deal hooly wi' my head, maidens, + Deal hooly wi' my hair, 70 + For it was washen late yestreen, + And it is wonder sair. + + "My maidens, easy wi' my back, + And easy wi' my side; + O set my saddle saft, Willie, 75 + I am a tender bride." + + O up then spak the southland lord, + And blinkit wi' his ee; + "I trow this lady's born a bairn," + Then laucht loud lauchters three. 80 + + "Ye hae gi'en me the gowk, Annet, + But I'll gie you the scorn; + For there's no a bell in a' the town + Shall ring for you the morn." + + Out and spak then sweet Willie, 85 + "Sae loud's I hear you lie, + There's no a bell in a' the town + But shall ring for Annet and me." + + And Willie swore a great great oath, + And he swore by the thorn, 90 + That she was as free o' a child that night, + As the night that she was born. + + O up an' spak the brisk bridegroom,[L93] + And he spak up wi' pride, + "Gin I should lay my gloves in pawn, 95 + I will dance wi' the bride." + + "Now haud your tongue, my lord," she said,[L97] + "Wi' dancing let me be, + I am sae thin in flesh and blude, + Sma' dancing will serve me." 100 + + But she's ta'en Willie by the hand, + The tear blinded her ee; + "But I wad dance wi' my true love, + But bursts my heart in three." + + She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm, 105 + Her garter frae her knee, + "Gie that, gie that, to my young son; + He'll ne'er his mother see." + +93. _Sic_ Herd. Finlay, then sweet Willie. + +97. _Sic_ Herd. Finlay, Willie, she said. + + + + +FAIR ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN. + + +Of this beautiful piece a complete copy was first published by +Scott, another afterwards by Jamieson. Both are here given, the +latter, as in some respects preferable, having the precedence. The +ballad is found almost entire in Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 206, a +short fragment in Johnson's _Museum_, p. 5, and a more considerable +one, called _Love Gregory_, in Buchan's collection, ii. 199. This +last has been unnecessarily repeated in a very indifferent +publication of the Percy Society, vol. xvii. Dr. Wolcot, Burns, and +Jamieson have written songs on the story of Fair Annie, and +Cunningham has modernized Sir Walter Scott's version, after his +fashion, in the _Songs of Scotland_, i. 298. + +Of his text, Jamieson remarks, "it is given _verbatim_ from the +large MS. collection, transmitted from Aberdeen, by my zealous and +industrious friend, Professor Robert Scott of that university. I +have every reason to believe, that no liberty whatever has been +taken with the text, which is certainly more uniform than any copy +heretofore published. It was first written down many years ago, with +no view towards being committed to the press; and is now given from +the copy then taken, with the addition only of stanzas twenty-two +and twenty-three, which the editor has inserted from memory." +_Popular Ballads_, i. 36. + +"Lochryan is a beautiful, though somewhat wild and secluded bay, +which projects from the Irish Channel into Wigtonshire, having the +little seaport of Stranraer situated at its bottom. Along its coast, +which is in some places high and rocky, there are many ruins of such +castles as that described in the ballad." CHAMBERS. + + "O wha will shoe my fair foot, + And wha will glove my han'? + And wha will lace my middle jimp + Wi' a new-made London ban'? + + "Or wha will kemb my yellow hair 5 + Wi' a new-made silver kemb? + Or wha'll be father to my young bairn, + Till love Gregor come hame?" + + "Your father'll shoe your fair foot, + Your mother glove your han'; 10 + Your sister lace your middle jimp + Wi' a new-made London ban'; + + "Your brethren will kemb your yellow hair + Wi' a new-made silver kemb; + And the king o' Heaven will father your bairn, 15 + Till love Gregor come hame." + + "O gin I had a bonny ship, + And men to sail wi' me, + It's I wad gang to my true love, + Sin he winna come to me!" 20 + + Her father's gien her a bonny ship, + And sent her to the stran'; + She's taen her young son in her arms, + And turn'd her back to the lan'. + + She hadna been o' the sea sailin' 25 + About a month or more, + Till landed has she her bonny ship + Near her true-love's door. + + The nicht was dark, and the wind blew cald, + And her love was fast asleep, 30 + And the bairn that was in her twa arms + Fu' sair began to greet. + + Lang stood she at her true love's door, + And lang tirl'd at the pin; + At length up gat his fause mother, 35 + Says, "Wha's that wad be in?" + + "O it is Annie of Lochroyan, + Your love, come o'er the sea, + But and your young son in her arms; + So open the door to me." 40 + + "Awa, awa, ye ill woman, + You're nae come here for gude; + You're but a witch, or a vile warlock, + Or mermaid o' the flude." + + "I'm nae a witch or vile warlock, 45 + Or mermaiden," said she;-- + "I'm but your Annie of Lochroyan;-- + O open the door to me!" + + "O gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan, + As I trust not ye be, 50 + What taiken can ye gie that e'er + I kept your companie?" + + "O dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says, + "Whan we sat at the wine, + How we changed the napkins frae our necks? 55 + It's nae sae lang sinsyne. + + "And yours was gude, and gude enough, + But nae sae gude as mine; + For yours was o' the cambrick clear, + But mine o' the silk sae fine. 60 + + "And dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says, + "As we twa sat at dine, + How we chang'd the rings frae our fingers, + And I can shew thee thine: + + "And yours was gude, and gude enough, 65 + Yet nae sae gude as mine; + For yours was o' the gude red gold, + But mine o' the diamonds fine. + + "Sae open the door, now, love Gregor, + And open it wi' speed; 70 + Or your young son, that is in my arms, + For cald will soon be dead." + + "Awa, awa, ye ill woman, + Gae frae my door for shame; + For I hae gotten anither fair love, 75 + Sae ye may hie you hame." + + "O hae ye gotten anither fair love, + For a' the oaths ye sware? + Then fare ye weel, now, fause Gregor; + For me ye's never see mair!" 80 + + O hooly, hooly gaed she back, + As the day began to peep; + She set her foot on good ship board, + And sair, sair did she weep. + + "Tak down, tak down the mast o' goud; 85 + Set up the mast o' tree; + Ill sets it a forsaken lady + To sail sae gallantlie. + + "Tak down, tak down the sails o' silk; + Set up the sails o' skin; 90 + Ill sets the outside to be gay, + Whan there's sic grief within!" + + Love Gregor started frae his sleep, + And to his mother did say, + "I dreamt a dream this night, mither, 95 + That maks my heart richt wae; + + "I dreamt that Annie of Lochroyan, + The flower o' a' her kin, + Was standin' mournin' at my door, + But nane wad lat her in." 100 + + "O there was a woman stood at the door, + Wi' a bairn intill her arms; + But I wadna let her within the bower, + For fear she had done you harm." + + O quickly, quickly raise he up, 105 + And fast ran to the strand; + And there he saw her, fair Annie, + Was sailing frae the land. + + And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie! + O, Annie, winna ye bide?" 110 + But ay the louder that he cried "Annie," + The higher rair'd the tide. + + And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie! + O, Annie, speak to me!" + But ay the louder that he cried "Annie," 115 + The louder rair'd the sea. + + The wind grew loud, and the sea grew rough, + And the ship was rent in twain; + And soon he saw her, fair Annie, + Come floating o'er the main. 120 + + He saw his young son in her arms, + Baith toss'd aboon the tide; + He wrang his hands, and fast he ran, + And plunged in the sea sae wide. + + He catch'd her by the yellow hair, 125 + And drew her to the strand; + But cald and stiff was every limb, + Before he reach'd the land. + + O first he kist her cherry cheek, + And syne he kist her chin; 130 + And sair he kist her ruby lips, + But there was nae breath within. + + O he has mourn'd o'er fair Annie, + Till the sun was ganging down; + Syne wi' a sich his heart it brast, 135 + And his saul to heaven has flown. + + + + +THE LASS OF LOCHROYAN. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 199. + + +"This edition of the ballad is composed of verses selected from +three MS. copies, and two obtained from recitation. Two of the +copies are in Herd's MS.; the third in that of Mrs. Brown of +Falkland." + +Lord Gregory is represented in Scott's version, "as confined by +fairy charms in an enchanted castle situated in the sea." But +Jamieson assures us that when a boy he had frequently heard this +ballad chanted in Morayshire, and no mention was ever made of +enchantment, or "fairy charms." "Indeed," he very justly adds, "the +two stanzas on that subject [v. 41-52,] are in a style of +composition very peculiar, and different from the rest of the piece, +and strongly remind us of the interpolations in the ballad of _Gil +Morris_." + + "O wha will shoe my bonny foot? + And wha will glove my hand? + And wha will lace my middle jimp + Wi' a lang, lang linen band? + + "O wha will kame my yellow hair, 5 + With a new-made silver kame? + And wha will father my young son, + Till Lord Gregory come hame?"-- + + "Thy father will shoe thy bonny foot, + Thy mother will glove thy hand, 10 + Thy sister will lace thy middle jimp, + Till Lord Gregory come to land. + + "Thy brother will kame thy yellow hair + With a new-made silver kame, + And God will be thy bairn's father 15 + Till Lord Gregory come hame."-- + + "But I will get a bonny boat, + And I will sail the sea; + And I will gang to Lord Gregory, + Since he canna come hame to me." 20 + + Syne she's gar'd build a bonny boat, + To sail the salt, salt sea; + The sails were o' the light green silk, + The tows o' taffety. + + She hadna sailed but twenty leagues, 25 + But twenty leagues and three, + When she met wi' a rank robber, + And a' his company. + + "Now whether are ye the queen hersell, + (For so ye weel might be,) 30 + Or are ye the Lass of Lochroyan, + Seekin' Lord Gregory?"-- + + "O I am neither the queen," she said, + "Nor sic I seem to be; + But I am the Lass of Lochroyan, 35 + Seekin' Lord Gregory."-- + + "O see na thou yon bonny bower, + It's a' cover'd o'er wi' tin? + When thou hast sail'd it round about, + Lord Gregory is within." 40 + + And when she saw the stately tower + Shining sae clear and bright, + Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave, + Built on a rock of height; + + Says--"Row the boat, my mariners, 45 + And bring me to the land! + For yonder I see my love's castle + Close by the salt-sea strand." + + She sail'd it round, and sail'd it round, + And loud, loud cried she-- 50 + "Now break, now break, ye fairy charms, + And set my true love free!" + + She's ta'en her young son in her arms, + And to the door she's gane; + And long she knock'd, and sair she ca'd, 55 + But answer got she nane. + + "O open the door, Lord Gregory! + O open and let me in! + For the wind blaws through my yellow hair, + And the rain draps o'er my chin."-- 60 + + "Awa, awa, ye ill woman! + Ye're no come here for good! + Ye're but some witch or wil warlock, + Or mermaid o' the flood."-- + + "I am neither witch, nor wil warlock, 65 + Nor mermaid o' the sea; + But I am Annie of Lochroyan; + O open the door to me!"-- + + "Gin thou be Annie of Lochroyan, + (As I trow thou binna she,) 70 + Now tell me some o' the love tokens + That past between thee and me."-- + + "O dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory, + As we sat at the wine, + We changed the rings frae our fingers? 75 + And I can show thee thine. + + "O yours was gude, and gude enough, + But aye the best was mine; + For yours was o' the gude red gowd, + But mine o' the diamond fine. 80 + + "And has na thou mind, Lord Gregory, + As we sat on the hill, + Thou twin'd me o' my maidenheid + Right sair against my will? + + "Now open the door, Lord Gregory! 85 + Open the door, I pray! + For thy young son is in my arms, + And will be dead ere day."-- + + "If thou be the lass of Lochroyan, + (As I kenna thou be,) 90 + Tell me some mair o' the love tokens + Past between me and thee." + + Fair Annie turn'd her round about-- + "Weel! since that it be sae, + May never a woman that has borne a son, 95 + Hae a heart sae fou o' wae! + + "Take down, take down, that mast o' gowd! + Set up a mast o' tree! + It disna become a forsaken lady + To sail sae royallie." 100 + + When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn, + And the sun began to peep, + Then up and raise him Lord Gregory, + And sair, sair did he weep. + + "Oh I hae dream'd a dream, mother, 105 + I wish it may prove true! + That the bonny Lass of Lochroyan + Was at the yate e'en now. + + "O I hae dream'd a dream, mother, + The thought o't gars me greet! 110 + That fair Annie o' Lochroyan + Lay cauld dead at my feet."-- + + "Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan + That ye make a' this din, + She stood a' last night at your door, 115 + But I true she wan na in."-- + + "O wae betide ye, ill woman! + An ill deid may ye die! + That wadna open the door to her, + Nor yet wad waken me." 120 + + O he's gane down to yon shore side + As fast as he could fare; + He saw fair Annie in the boat, + But the wind it toss'd her sair. + + "And hey, Annie, and how, Annie! 125 + O Annie, winna ye bide!" + But aye the mair he cried Annie, + The braider grew the tide. + + "And hey, Annie, and how, Annie! + Dear Annie, speak to me!" 130 + But aye the louder he cried Annie, + The louder roar'd the sea. + + The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough, + And dash'd the boat on shore; + Fair Annie floated through the faem, 135 + But the babie rose no more. + + Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair, + And made a heavy moan; + Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet, + Her bonny young son was gone. 140 + + O cherry, cherry was her cheek, + And gowden was her hair; + But clay-cold were her rosy lips-- + Nae spark o' life was there. + + And first he kiss'd her cherry cheek, 145 + And syne he kiss'd her chin, + And syne he kiss'd her rosy lips-- + There was nae breath within. + + "O wae betide my cruel mother! + An ill death may she die! 150 + She turn'd my true love frae my door, + Wha came sae far to me. + + "O wae betide my cruel mother! + An ill death may she die! + She turn'd fair Annie frae my door, 155 + Wha died for love o' me." + + + + +THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 3. + + +This ballad, of which more than thirty versions have been published +in the Northern languages, is preserved in English in several forms, +all of them more or less unsatisfactory. Of these the present copy +comes nearest to the pure original, as it is found in Danish. The +next best is _The Brave Earl Brand and The King of England's +Daughter_, recently printed for the first time in Bell's _Ballads of +the Peasantry_, and given at the end of this volume. _Erlinton_ +(vol. iii. 220) is much mutilated, and has a perverted conclusion, +but retains a faint trace of one characteristic trait of the ancient +ballad, which really constitutes the turning point of the story, but +which all the others lack. (See _Erlinton_.) A fragment exists in +the Percy MS., of which we can only say that if it much resembled +Percy's _Child of Elle_ (which it cannot), it might without loss be +left undisturbed forever. In the only remaining copy Robin Hood +appears as the hero. (See vol. v. p. 334.) It is of slight value, +but considerably less insipid than the _Child of Elle_. Motherwell +(_Minstrelsy_, p. 180) has given a few variations to Scott's ballad, +but they are of no importance.--Of the corresponding Danish ballad, +_Ribolt og Guldborg_, Grundtvig has collected more than twenty +versions, some of them ancient, many obtained from recitation, and +eight of the kindred _Hildebrand og Hilde_. There have also been +printed of the latter, three versions in Swedish, and of the former, +three in Icelandic, two in Norse, and seven in Swedish. (_Danmarks +Gamle Folkeviser_, ii. 308-403, 674-81.) Jamieson has translated an +inferior copy of the Danish ballad in _Illustrations of North. +Antiq._, p. 317. + +"The ballad of _The Douglas Tragedy_," says Scott, "is one of the +few (?) to which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality. + +"The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is said to have been the +scene of this melancholy event. There are the remains of a very +ancient tower, adjacent to the farm-house, in a wild and solitary +glen, upon a torrent named Douglas burn, which joins the Yarrow, +after passing a craggy rock, called the Douglas craig.... From this +ancient tower Lady Margaret is said to have been carried by her +lover. Seven large stones, erected upon the neighboring heights of +Blackhouse, are shown, as marking the spot where the seven brethren +were slain; and the Douglas burn is averred to have been the stream +at which the lovers stopped to drink: so minute is tradition in +ascertaining the scene of a tragical tale, which, considering the +rude state of former times, had probably foundation in some real +event." + +Were it not for Scott's concluding remark, and the obstinate +credulity of most of the English and Scotch editors, we should +hardly think it necessary to say that the locality of some of the +incidents in _Ribolt and Guldborg_, is equally well ascertained +(Grundtvig, 342, 343). "Popular tales and anecdotes of every kind," +as Jamieson well remarks, "soon obtain locality wherever they are +told; and the intelligent and attentive traveller will not be +surprised to find the same story which he had learnt when a child, +with every appropriate circumstance of names, time, and place, in a +Glen of Morven, Lochaber, or Rannoch, equally domesticated among the +mountains of Norway, Caucasus, or Thibet." _Ill. North. Ant._ p. +317. + + "Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas," she says, + "And put on your armour so bright; + Let it never be said that a daughter of thine + Was married to a lord under night. + + "Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, 5 + And put on your armour so bright, + And take better care of your youngest sister, + For your eldest's awa' the last night."-- + + He's mounted her on a milk-white steed, + And himself on a dapple grey, 10 + With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, + And lightly they rode away. + + Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder, + To see what he could see, + And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold, 15 + Come riding o'er the lee. + + "Light down, light down, Lady Marg'ret," he said, + "And hold my steed in your hand, + Until that against your seven brethren bold, + And your father, I make a stand."-- 20 + + She held his steed in her milk-white hand, + And never shed one tear, + Until that she saw her seven brethren fa', + And her father hard fighting, who loved her so dear. + + "O hold your hand, Lord William!" she said, 25 + "For your strokes they are wondrous sair; + True lovers I can get many a ane, + But a father I can never get mair."-- + + O she's ta'en out her handkerchief, + It was o' the holland sae fine, 30 + And aye she dighted her father's bloody wounds, + That were redder than the wine. + + "O chuse, O chuse, Lady Marg'ret," he said, + "O whether will ye gang or bide?"-- + "I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William," she said, 35 + "For you have left me no other guide."-- + + He's lifted her on a milk-white steed, + And himself on a dapple grey, + With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, + And slowly they baith rade away. 40 + + O they rade on, and on they rade, + And a' by the light of the moon, + Until they came to yon wan water, + And there they lighted down. + + They lighted down to tak a drink 45 + Of the spring that ran sae clear; + And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood, + And sair she 'gan to fear. + + "Hold up, hold up, Lord William," she says, + "For I fear that you are slain!"-- 50 + "'Tis naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak, + That shines in the water sae plain."-- + + O they rade on, and on they rade, + And a' by the light of the moon, + Until they cam to his mother's ha' door, 55 + And there they lighted down. + + "Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, + "Get up, and let me in!-- + Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, + "For this night my fair lady I've win. 60 + + "O mak my bed, lady mother," he says, + "O mak it braid and deep! + And lay Lady Marg'ret close at my back, + And the sounder I will sleep."-- + + Lord William was dead lang ere midnight, 65 + Lady Marg'ret lang ere day-- + And all true lovers that go thegither, + May they have mair luck than they! + + Lord William was buried in St. Marie's kirk,[L69] + Lady Marg'ret in Marie's quire; 70 + Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose, + And out o' the knight's a brier. + + And they twa met, and they twa plat, + And fain they wad be near; + And a' the warld might ken right weel, 75 + They were twa lovers dear. + + But bye and rade the Black Douglas, + And wow but he was rough! + For he pull'd up the bonny brier, + And flang't in St. Marie's Loch. 80 + +69-80. This miracle is frequently witnessed over the graves of faithful +lovers.--King Mark, according to the German romance, planted a rose on +Tristan's grave, and a vine on that of Isold. The roots struck down into +the very hearts of the dead lovers, and the stems twined lovingly +together. The French account is somewhat different. An eglantine sprung +from the tomb of Tristan, and twisted itself round the monument of +Isold. It was cut down three times, but grew up every morning fresher +than before, so that it was allowed to stand. Other examples are, in +this volume, _Fair Janet_, _Lord Thomas and Fair Annet_; in the third +volume, _Prince Robert_, &c. The same phenomenon is exhibited in the +Swedish ballads of _Hertig Fr[:o]jdenborg och Fr[:o]ken Adelin_, _Lilla +Rosa_, _Hilla Lilla_, _Hertig Nils_, (_Svenska Folk-Visor_, i. 95, 116, +Arwidsson, ii. 8, 21, 24,) in the Danish ballad of _Herr Sallemand_, +(_Danske Viser_, iii. 348,) in the Breton ballad of _Lord Nann and the +Korrigan_, translated in Keightley's _Fairy Mythology_, p. 433, in a +Servian tale cited by Talvi, _Versuch_, &c., p. 139, and in the Afghan +poem of _Audam and Doorkhaunee_, described by Elphinstone, _Account of +the Kingdom of Caubul_, i. 295,--which last reference we owe to +Talvi.--In the case of the Danish ballad it is certain, and in some of +the other cases probable, that the idea was derived from the romance of +_Tristan_. + + + + +LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR. + + +The four pieces which follow have all the same subject. _Lord Thomas +and Fair Ellinor_, is given from the _Collection of Old Ballads_, +1723, vol. i. p. 249, where it is entitled, _A Tragical Ballad on +the unfortunate Love of Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor, together with +the Downfal of the Brown Girl_. The text differs but slightly from +that of Percy, (iii. 121,) and Ritson, _Ancient Songs_, ii. 89. + + Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester, + And a chaser of the king's deer; + Fair Ellinor was a fine woman, + And Lord Thomas he loved her dear. + + "Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," he said, 5 + "And riddle us both as one; + Whether I shall marry with fair Ellinor, + And let the brown girl alone?" + + "The brown girl she has got houses and land, + And fair Ellinor she has got none; 10 + Therefore I charge you on my blessing, + Bring me the brown girl home." + + As it befell on a high holiday, + As many more did beside, + Lord Thomas he went to fair Ellinor, 15 + That should have been his bride. + + But when he came to fair Ellinors bower, + He knocked there at the ring; + But who was so ready as fair Ellinor, + For to let Lord Thomas in. 20 + + "What news, what news, Lord Thomas?" she said, + "What news hast thou brought unto me?" + "I am come to bid thee to my wedding, + And that is bad news for thee." + + "O God forbid, Lord Thomas," she said, 25 + "That such a thing should be done; + I thought to have been thy bride my own self, + And you to have been the bridegrom." + + "Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," she said, + "And riddle it all in one; 30 + Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding, + Or whether I shall tarry at home?" + + "There are many that are your friends, daughter, + And many that are your foe; + Therefore I charge you on my blessing, 35 + To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go." + + "There's many that are my friends, mother; + And if a thousand more were my foe, + Betide my life, betide my death, + To Lord Thomas's wedding I'll go." 40 + + She cloathed herself in gallant attire, + And her merry men all in green; + And as they rid through every town, + They took her to be some queen. + + But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate, + She knocked there at the ring; 45 + But who was so ready as Lord Thomas, + To let fair Ellinor in. + + "Is this your bride?" fair Ellinor said; + "Methinks she looks wonderful brown; 50 + Thou might'st have had as fair a woman, + As ever trod on the ground." + + "Despise her not, fair Ellin," he said, + "Despise her not unto me; + For better I love thy little finger, 55 + Than all her whole body." + + This brown bride had a little penknife, + That was both long and sharp, + And betwixt the short ribs and the long, + Prick'd fair Ellinor to the heart. 60 + + "O Christ now save thee," Lord Thomas he said, + "Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan; + Thou us'd to look with as fresh a colour, + As ever the sun shin'd on." + + "O art thou blind, Lord Thomas?" she said, 65 + "Or canst thou not very well see? + O dost thou not see my own heart's blood + Run trickling down my knee?" + + Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side; + As he walk'd about the hall, 70 + He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders, + And threw it against the wall. + + He set the hilt against the ground, + And the point against his heart; + There never were three lovers met, 75 + That sooner did depart. + + + + +LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET. + + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 290, where it was "given, with some +corrections, from a MS. copy transmitted from Scotland." There is a +corresponding Swedish Ballad, _Herr Peder och Liten Kerstin_, in the +_Svenska Folk-Visor_, i. 49. It is translated in _Literature and +Romance of Northern Europe_, by William and Mary Howitt, i. 258. + + Lord Thomas and fair Annet + Sate a' day on a hill; + Whan night was cum, and sun was sett, + They had not talkt their fill. + + Lord Thomas said a word in jest, 5 + Fair Annet took it ill: + "A' I will nevir wed a wife + Against my ain friends will." + + "Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife, + A wife wull neir wed yee:" 10 + Sae he is hame to tell his mither, + And knelt upon his knee. + + "O rede, O rede, mither," he says, + "A gude rede gie to mee: + O sall I tak the nut-browne bride, 15 + And let faire Annet bee?" + + "The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear, + Fair Annet she has gat nane; + And the little beauty fair Annet has, + O it wull soon be gane." 20 + + And he has till his brother gane: + "Now, brother, rede ye mee; + A', sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, + And let fair Annet bee?" + + "The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother, 25 + The nut-browne bride has kye: + I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride, + And cast fair Annet bye." + + "Her oxen may dye i' the house, billie, + And her kye into the byre, 30 + And I sall hae nothing to mysell, + Bot a fat fadge by the fyre." + + And he has till his sister gane: + "Now sister, rede ye mee; + O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, 35 + And set fair Annet free?" + + "Ise rede ye tak fair Annet, Thomas, + And let the browne bride alane; + Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace, + What is this we brought hame!" 40 + + "No, I will tak my mithers counsel, + And marrie me owt o' hand; + And I will tak the nut-browne bride; + Fair Annet may leive the land." + + Up then rose fair Annets father, 45 + Twa hours or it wer day, + And he is gane into the bower + Wherein fair Annet lay. + + "Rise up, rise up, fair Annet," he says, + "Put on your silken sheene; 50 + Let us gae to St. Maries kirke, + And see that rich weddeen." + + "My maides, gae to my dressing-roome, + And dress to me my hair; + Whair-eir yee laid a plait before, 55 + See yee lay ten times mair. + + "My maids, gae to my dressing-room, + And dress to me my smock; + The one half is o' the holland fine, + The other o' needle-work." 60 + + The horse fair Annet rade upon, + He amblit like the wind; + Wi' siller he was shod before, + Wi' burning gowd behind. + + Four and twanty siller bells 65 + Wer a' tyed till his mane, + And yae tift o' the norland wind, + They tinkled ane by ane. + + Four and twanty gay gude knichts + Rade by fair Annets side, 70 + And four and twanty fair ladies, + As gin she had bin a bride. + + And whan she cam to Maries kirk, + She sat on Maries stean: + The cleading that fair Annet had on 75 + It skinkled in their een. + + And whan she cam into the kirk, + She shimmer'd like the sun; + The belt that was about her waist, + Was a' wi' pearles bedone. 80 + + She sat her by the nut-browne bride, + And her een they wer sae clear, + Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride, + Whan fair Annet she drew near. + + He had a rose into his hand, 85 + And he gave it kisses three, + And reaching by the nut-browne bride, + Laid it on fair Annets knee. + + Up than spak the nut-browne bride, + She spak wi' meikle spite; 90 + "And whair gat ye that rose-water, + That does mak yee sae white?" + + "O I did get the rose-water + Whair ye wull neir get nane, + For I did get that very rose-water 95 + Into my mithers wame." + + The bride she drew a long bodkin + Frae out her gay head-gear, + And strake fair Annet unto the heart, + That word she nevir spak mair. 100 + + Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale, + And marvelit what mote bee: + But whan he saw her dear hearts blude, + A' wood-wroth wexed hee. + + He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp, 105 + That was sae sharp and meet, + And drave into the nut-browne bride, + That fell deid at his feit. + + "Now stay for me, dear Annet," he sed, + "Now stay, my dear," he cry'd; 110 + Then strake the dagger untill his heart, + And fell deid by her side. + + Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa', + Fair Annet within the quiere; + And o' the tane thair grew a birk, 115 + The other a bonny briere. + + And ay they grew, and ay they threw, + As they wad faine be neare; + And by this ye may ken right weil, + They were twa luvers deare. 120 + + + + +SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR ANNIE + + +Is another version of the foregoing piece, furnished by Jamieson, +_Popular Ballads_, i. 22. + +"The text of _Lord Thomas and Fair Annet_," remarks Jamieson, "seems +to have been adjusted, previous to its leaving Scotland, by some one +who was more of a scholar than the reciters of ballads generally +are; and, in attempting to give it an antique cast, it has been +deprived of somewhat of that easy facility which is the +distinguished characteristic of the traditionary ballad narrative. +With the text of the following ditty, no such experiment has been +made. It is here given pure and entire, as it was taken down by the +editor, from the recitation of a lady in Aberbrothick, (Mrs. W. +Arrot.) As she had, when a child, learnt the ballad from an elderly +maid-servant, and probably had not repeated it for a dozen years +before I had the good fortune to be introduced to her, it may be +depended upon, that every line was recited to me as nearly as +possible in the exact form in which she learnt it." + +Mr. Chambers, in conformity with the plan of his work, presents us +with an edition composed out of Percy's and Jamieson's, with some +amended readings and additional verses from a manuscript copy, +(_Scottish Ballads_, p. 269.) + + Sweet Willie and fair Annie + Sat a' day on a hill; + And though they had sitten seven year, + They ne'er wad had their fill. + + Sweet Willie said a word in haste, 5 + And Annie took it ill: + "I winna wed a tocherless maid, + Against my parent's will." + + "Ye're come o' the rich, Willie, + And I'm come o' the poor; 10 + I'm o'er laigh to be your bride, + And I winna be your whore." + + O Annie she's gane till her bower, + And Willie down the den; + And he's come till his mither's bower, 15 + By the lei light o' the moon. + + "O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?" he says, + "Or are ye the bower within?" + "I sleep richt aft, I wake richt aft;[L19] + What want ye wi' me, son? 20 + + "Whare hae ye been a' night, Willie? + O wow! ye've tarried lang!" + "I have been courtin' fair Annie, + And she is frae me gane. + + "There is twa maidens in a bower; 25 + Which o' them sall I bring hame? + The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows, + And fair Annie has nane." + + "It's an ye wed the nut-brown maid, + I'll heap gold wi' my hand; 30 + But an ye wed her, fair Annie, + I'll straik it wi' a wand. + + "The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows, + And fair Annie has nane; + And Willie, for my benison, 35 + The nut-brown maid bring hame." + + "O I sall wed the nut-brown maid, + And I sall bring her hame; + But peace nor rest between us twa, + Till death sinder's again. 40 + + "But, alas, alas!" says sweet Willie, + "O fair is Annie's face!" + "But what's the matter, my son Willie, + She has nae ither grace." + + "Alas, alas!" says sweet Willie, 45 + "But white is Annie's hand!" + "But what's the matter, my son Willie, + She hasna a fur o' land." + + "Sheep will die in cots, mither, + And owsen die in byre; 50 + And what's this warld's wealth to me, + An I get na my heart's desire? + + "Whare will I get a bonny boy, + That wad fain win hose and shoon, + That will rin to fair Annie's bower, 55 + Wi' the lei light o' the moon? + + "Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin', + The morn at twal at noon; + Ye'll tell her to come to Willie's weddin', + The heir o' Duplin town.[L60] 60 + + "She manna put on the black, the black, + Nor yet the dowie brown; + But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white, + And her bonny locks hangin' down." + + He is on to Annie's bower, 65 + And tirled at the pin; + And wha was sae ready as Annie hersel, + To open and let him in. + + "Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin', + The morn at twal at noon; 70 + Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin', + The heir of Duplin town. + + "Ye manna put on the black, the black, + Nor yet the dowie brown; + But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white, 75 + And your bonny locks hangin' down." + + "Its I will come to Willie's weddin', + The morn at twal at noon; + Its I will come to Willie's weddin', + But I rather the mass had been mine. 80 + + "Maidens, to my bower come, + And lay gold on my hair; + And whare ye laid ae plait before, + Ye'll now lay ten times mair. + + "Taylors, to my bower come, 85 + And mak to me a weed; + And smiths unto my stable come, + And shoe to me a steed." + + At every tate o' Annie's horse' mane + There hang a silver bell; 90 + And there came a wind out frae the south, + Which made them a' to knell. + + And whan she came to Mary-kirk, + And sat down in the deas, + The light, that came frae fair Annie, 95 + Enlighten'd a' the place. + + But up and stands the nut-brown bride, + Just at her father's knee; + "O wha is this, my father dear, + That blinks in Willie's e'e?" 100 + "O this is Willie's first true love, + Before he loved thee." + + "If that be Willie's first true love, + He might ha'e latten me be; + She has as much gold on ae finger, 105 + As I'll wear till I die. + + "O whare got ye that water, Annie, + That washes you sae white?" + "I got it in my mither's wambe, + Whare ye'll ne'er get the like. 110 + + "For ye've been wash'd in Dunny's well, + And dried on Dunny's dyke; + And a' the water in the sea + Will never wash ye white." + + Willie's ta'en a rose out o' his hat, 115 + Laid it in Annie's lap; + "[The bonniest to the bonniest fa's,] + Hae, wear it for my sake." + + "Tak up and wear your rose, Willie, + And wear't wi' mickle care, 120 + For the woman sall never bear a son, + That will mak my heart sae sair." + + Whan night was come, and day was gane, + And a' man boun to bed, + Sweet Willie and the nut-brown bride 125 + In their chamber were laid. + + They werena weel lyen down, + And scarcely fa'n asleep, + Whan up and stands she, fair Annie, + Just up at Willie's feet. 130 + + "Weel brook ye o' your brown brown bride, + Between ye and the wa'; + And sae will I o' my winding sheet, + That suits me best ava. + + "Weel brook ye o' your brown brown bride, 135 + Between ye and the stock; + And sae will I o' my black black kist, + That has neither key nor lock." + + Sad Willie raise, put on his claise, + Drew till him his hose and shoon, 140 + And he is on to Annie's bower, + By the lei light o' the moon. + + The firsten bower that he came till, + There was right dowie wark; + Her mither and her three sisters 145 + Were makin' to Annie a sark. + + The nexten bower that he came till, + There was right dowie cheir; + Her father and her seven brethren + Were makin' to Annie a bier. 150 + + The lasten bower, that he came till, + [O heavy was his care! + The waxen lights were burning bright,] + And fair Annie streekit there. + + He's lifted up the coverlet, 155 + [Where she, fair Annie, lay; + Sweet was her smile, but wan her cheek; + O wan, and cald as clay!] + + "It's I will kiss your bonny cheek, + And I will kiss your chin; 160 + And I will kiss your clay-cald lip; + But I'll never kiss woman again. + + "The day ye deal at Annie's burial + The bread but and the wine; + Before the morn at twall o'clock, 165 + They'll deal the same at mine." + + The tane was buried in Mary's kirk, + The tither in Mary's quire; + And out o' the tane there grew a birk, + And out o' the tither a brier. 170 + + And ay they grew, and ay they drew, + Untill they twa did meet; + And every ane that past them by, + Said, "Thae's been lovers sweet!" + +19. That is, my slumbers are short, broken, and interrupted. J. + +60. _Duplin town._ Duplin is the seat of the earl of Kinnoul, from +which he derives his title of viscount. It is in the neighborhood of +Perth. It is observable, that ballads are very frequently adapted to +the meridian of the place where they are found. J. + + + + +FAIR MARGARET AND SWEET WILLIAM. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 164. + + +"This seems to be the old song quoted in Fletcher's _Knight of the +Burning Pestle_, acts ii. and iii.; although the six lines there +preserved are somewhat different from those in the ballad, as it +stands at present. The reader will not wonder at this, when he is +informed that this is only given from a modern printed copy picked +up on a stall. Its full title is _Fair Margaret's misfortunes; or +Sweet William's frightful dreams on his wedding night, with the +sudden death and burial of those noble lovers_. + +"The lines preserved in the play are this distich: + + "You are no love for me, Margaret, + I am no love for you." Act iii. 5. + +And the following stanza: + + "When it was grown to dark midnight, + And all were fast asleep, + In came Margarets grimly ghost, + And stood at Williams feet. Act ii. 8. + +"These lines have acquired an importance by giving birth to one of +the most beautiful ballads in our own or any other language: +[Mallet's _Margaret's Ghost_.] + +"Since the first edition, some improvements have been inserted, +which were communicated by a lady of the first distinction, as she +had heard this song repeated in her infancy." + +The variations in Herd's copy, (i. 145,) and in Ritson's (_Ancient +Songs_, ii. 92,) are unimportant. + +In the main the same is the widely known ballad, _Der Ritter und das +M[:a]gdlein_, Erk, p. 81, Hoffmann's _Schlesische Volkslieder_, p. 9; +_Herr Malmstens Dr[:o]m, Svenska Folkvisor_, iii. 104; Arwidsson, ii. +21; _Volkslieder der Wenden_, by Haupt and Schmaler, i. 159-162 +(Hoffmann); in Dutch, with a different close, Hoffmann's +_Niederl[:a]ndische Volkslieder_, p. 61: also _Lord Lovel_, _post_, p. +162. + + As it fell out on a long summer's day, + Two lovers they sat on a hill; + They sat together that long summer's day, + And could not talk their fill. + + "I see no harm by you, Margaret, 5 + And you see none by mee; + Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock + A rich wedding you shall see." + + Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window, + Combing her yellow hair; 10 + There she spyed sweet William and his bride, + As they were a riding near. + + Then down she layd her ivory combe, + And braided her hair in twain: + She went alive out of her bower, 15 + But ne'er came alive in't again. + + When day was gone, and night was come, + And all men fast asleep, + Then came the spirit of fair Marg'ret, + And stood at Williams feet. 20 + + "Are you awake, sweet William?" shee said,[L21] + "Or, sweet William, are you asleep? + God give you joy of your gay bride-bed, + And me of my winding-sheet." + + When day was come, and night 'twas gone, 25 + And all men wak'd from sleep, + Sweet William to his lady sayd, + "My dear, I have cause to weep. + + "I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye, + Such dreames are never good: 30 + I dreamt my bower was full of red swine, + And my bride-bed full of blood." + + "Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured sir, + They never do prove good; + To dream thy bower was full of red swine, 35 + And thy bride-bed full of blood." + + He called up his merry men all, + By one, by two, and by three; + Saying, "I'll away to fair Marg'ret's bower, + By the leave of my ladie." 40 + + And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower, + He knocked at the ring; + And who so ready as her seven brethren, + To let sweet William in. + + Then he turned up the covering-sheet; 45 + "Pray let me see the dead; + Methinks she looks all pale and wan, + She hath lost her cherry red. + + "I'll do more for thee, Margaret, + Than any of thy kin: 50 + For I will kiss thy pale wan lips, + Though a smile I cannot win." + + With that bespake the seven brethren, + Making most piteous mone, + "You may go kiss your jolly brown bride, 55 + And let our sister alone." + + "If I do kiss my jolly brown bride, + I do but what is right; + I neer made a vow to yonder poor corpse, + By day, nor yet by night. 60 + + "Deal on, deal on, my merry men all, + Deal on your cake and your wine:[L62] + For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day, + Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine." + + Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day, 65 + Sweet William dyed the morrow: + Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love, + Sweet William dyed for sorrow. + + Margaret was buryed in the lower chancel, + And William in the higher: 70 + Out of her brest there sprang a rose, + And out of his a briar. + + They grew till they grew unto the church top, + And then they could grow no higher; + And there they tyed in a true lovers knot, 75 + Which made all the people admire. + + Then came the clerk of the parish, + As you the truth shall hear, + And by misfortune cut them down, + Or they had now been there. 80 + +21-24. + + God give you joy, you lovers true, + In bride-bed fast asleep; + Lo! I am going to my green-grass grave, + And I'm in my winding sheet. HERD'S copy. + +62. Alluding to the dole anciently given at funerals. P. + + + + +SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST + + +As already remarked, is often made the sequel to other ballads. (See +_Clerk Saunders_, p. 45.) It was first printed in the fourth volume +of Ramsay's _Tea Table Miscellany_, with some imperfections, and +with two spurious stanzas for a conclusion. We subjoin to Ramsay's +copy the admirable version obtained by Motherwell from recitation, +and still another variation furnished by Kinloch. + +Closely similar in many respects are the Danish _F[ae]stemanden i +Graven (Aage og Else)_, Grundtvig, No. 90, and the Swedish _Sorgens +Magt_, _Svenska F. V._, i. 29, ii. 204, or Arwidsson, ii. 103. Also +_Der Todte Freier_, Erk's _Liederhort_, 24, 24 a. In the Danish and +Swedish ballads it is the uncontrolled grief of his mistress that +calls the lover from his grave: in the English, the desire to be +freed from his troth-plight.--See vol. i. p. 213, 217. + + There came a ghost to Margaret's door, + With many a grievous groan, + And ay he tirled at the pin, + But answer made she none. + + "Is that my father Philip, 5 + Or is't my brother John? + Or is't my true love Willy, + From Scotland new come home?" + + "Tis not thy father Philip, + Nor yet thy brother John; 10 + But 'tis thy true love Willy, + From Scotland new come home. + + "O sweet Margaret! O dear Margaret! + I pray thee speak to mee: + Give me my faith and troth, Margaret, 15 + As I gave it to thee." + + "Thy faith and troth thou's never get, + Nor yet will I thee lend, + Till that thou come within my bower, + And kiss my cheek and chin." 20 + + "If I should come within thy bower, + I am no earthly man: + And should I kiss thy rosy lips, + Thy days will not be lang. + + "O sweet Margaret, O dear Margaret, 25 + I pray thee speak to mee: + Give me my faith and troth, Margaret, + As I gave it to thee." + + "Thy faith and troth thou's never get, + Nor yet will I thee lend, 30 + Till you take me to yon kirk-yard, + And wed me with a ring." + + "My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard, + Afar beyond the sea, + And it is but my spirit, Margaret, 35 + That's now speaking to thee." + + She stretched out her lily-white hand, + And for to do her best; + "Hae there[L39] your faith and troth, Willy, + God send your soul good rest." 40 + + Now she has kilted her robes of green + A piece below her knee, + And a' the live-lang winter night + The dead corps followed she. + + "Is there any room at your head, Willy, 45 + Or any room at your feet? + Or any room at your side, Willy, + Wherein that I may creep?" + + "There's no room at my head, Margaret, + There's no room at my feet; 50 + There's no room at my side, Margaret, + My coffin's made so meet." + + Then up and crew the red red cock, + And up then crew the gray: + "Tis time, tis time, my dear Margaret, 55 + That you were going away." + + No more the ghost to Margaret said, + But, with a grievous groan, + Evanish'd in a cloud of mist, + And left her all alone. 60 + + "O stay, my only true love, stay," + The constant Margaret cried: + Wan grew her cheeks, she closed her een, + Stretch'd her soft limbs, and died. + +39. ther's. + + + + +WILLIAM AND MARJORIE. + + Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 186. + + + Lady Marjorie, Lady Marjorie, + Sat sewing her silken seam, + And by her came a pale, pale ghost, + Wi' mony a sigh and mane. + + "Are ye my father the king?" she says, 5 + "Or are ye my brither John? + Or are ye my true love, sweet William, + From England newly come?" + + "I'm not your father the king," he says, + "No, no, nor your brither John; 10 + But I'm your true love, sweet William, + From England that's newly come." + + "Have ye brought me any scarlets sae red, + Or any of the silks sae fine; + Or have ye brought me any precious things, 15 + That merchants have for sale?" + + "I have not brought you any scarlets sae red, + No, no, nor the silks sae fine; + But I have brought you my winding-sheet + Ower many a rock and hill. 20 + + "Lady Marjorie, Lady Marjorie, + For faith and charitie, + Will ye gie to me my faith and troth, + That I gave once to thee?" + + "O your faith and troth I'll not gie to thee, 25 + No, no, that will not I, + Until I get ae kiss of your ruby lips, + And in my arms you lye." + + "My lips they are sae bitter," he says, + "My breath it is sae strang, 30 + If you get ae kiss of my ruby lips, + Your days will not be lang. + + "The cocks are crawing, Marjorie," he says,-- + "The cocks are crawing again; + It's time the dead should part the quick,-- 35 + Marjorie, I must be gane." + + She followed him high, she followed him low, + Till she came to yon churchyard green; + And there the deep grave opened up, + And young William he lay down. 40 + + "What three things are these, sweet William," she says, + "That stand here at your head?" + "O it's three maidens, Marjorie," he says, + "That I promised once to wed." + + "What three things are these, sweet William," she says, 45 + "That stand close at your side?" + "O it's three babes, Marjorie," he says, + "That these three maidens had." + + "What three things are these, sweet William," she says, + "That lye close at your feet?" 50 + "O it's three hell-hounds, Marjorie," he says, + "That's waiting my soul to keep." + + O she took up her white, white hand, + And she struck him on the breast, + Saying,--"Have there again your faith and troth, 55 + And I wish your saul gude rest." + + + + +SWEET WILLIAM AND MAY MARGARET. + + Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 241. + + + As May Marg'ret sat in her bouerie, + In her bouer all alone, + At the very parting o' midnicht, + She heard a mournfu' moan. + + "O is it my father, O is it my mother, 5 + Or is it my brother John? + Or is it sweet William, my ain true love, + To Scotland new come home?" + + "It is na your father, it is na your mother, + It is na your brother John; 10 + But it is sweet William, your ain true love, + To Scotland new come home."-- + + "Hae ye brought me onie fine things, + Onie new thing for to wear? + Or hae ye brought me a braid o' lace, 15 + To snood up my gowden hair?" + + "I've brought ye na fine things at all, + Nor onie new thing to wear, + Nor hae I brought ye a braid of lace, + To snood up your gowden hair. 20 + + "But Margaret, dear Margaret, + I pray ye speak to me; + O gie me back my faith and troth, + As dear as I gied it thee!" + + "Your faith and troth ye sanna get, 25 + Nor will I wi' ye twin, + Till ye come within my bower, + And kiss me, cheek and chin." + + "O Margaret, dear Margaret, + I pray ye speak to me; 30 + O gie me back my faith and troth, + As dear as I gied it thee." + + "Your faith and troth ye sanna get, + Nor will I wi' ye twin, + Till ye tak me to yonder kirk, 35 + And wed me wi' a ring." + + "O should I come within your bouer, + I am na earthly man: + If I should kiss your red, red lips, + Your days wad na be lang. 40 + + "My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard, + It's far ayont the sea; + And it is my spirit, Margaret, + That's speaking unto thee." + + "Your faith and troth ye sanna get, 45 + Nor will I twin wi' thee, + Tell ye tell me the pleasures o' Heaven, + And pains of hell how they be." + + "The pleasures of heaven I wat not of, + But the pains of hell I dree; 50 + There some are hie hang'd for huring, + And some for adulterie." + + Then Marg'ret took her milk-white hand, + And smooth'd it on his breast;-- + "Tak your faith and troth, William, 55 + God send your soul good rest!" + + + + +BONNY BARBARA ALLAN + + +Was first published in Ramsay's _Tea-Table Miscellany_, (ii. 171,) +from which it is transferred verbatim into Herd's _Scottish Songs_, +Johnson's _Museum_, Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, &c. Percy printed it, +"with a few conjectural emendations, from a written copy," +_Reliques_, iii. 175, together with another version, which follows +the present. Mr. G. F. Graham, _Songs of Scotland_, ii. 157, has +pointed out an allusion to the "little Scotch Song of _Barbary +Allen_," in Pepys's _Diary_, 2 Jan. 1665-6. + + It was in and about the Martinmas time, + When the green leaves were a falling, + That Sir John Graeme in the west country + Fell in love with Barbara Allan. + + He sent his man down through the town, 5 + To the place where she was dwelling; + "O haste and come to my master dear, + Gin ye be Barbara Allan." + + O hooly, hooly rose she up, + To the place where he was lying, 10 + And when she drew the curtain by, + "Young man, I think you're dying." + + "O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick, + And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan:" + "O the better for me ye's never be, 15 + Tho' your heart's blood were a spilling. + + "O dinna ye mind, young man," said she, + "When ye was in the tavern a drinking, + That ye made the healths gae round and round, + And slighted Barbara Allan." 20 + + He turn'd his face unto the wall, + And death was with him dealing; + "Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, + And be kind to Barbara Allan." + + And slowly, slowly raise she up, 25 + And slowly, slowly left him; + And sighing said, she cou'd not stay, + Since death of life had reft him. + + She had not gane a mile but twa, + When she heard the dead-bell ringing, 30 + And every jow that the dead-bell geid, + It cry'd "Woe to Barbara Allan!" + + "O mother, mother, make my bed, + O make it saft and narrow; + Since my love died for me today, 35 + I'll die for him tomorrow." + + + + +BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY. + +From Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 169. + + +"Given, with some corrections, from an old blackletter copy, +entitled, _Barbara Allen's Cruelty, or the Young Man's Tragedy_." + + In Scarlet towne, where I was borne, + There was a faire maid dwellin, + Made every youth crye, Wel-awaye! + Her name was Barbara Allen. + + All in the merrye month of May, 5 + When greene buds they were swellin, + Yong Jemmye Grove on his death-bed lay, + For love of Barbara Allen. + + He sent his man unto her then, + To the towne where shee was dwellin; 10 + "You must come to my master deare, + Giff your name be Barbara Allen. + + "For death is printed on his face, + And ore his hart is stealin: + Then haste away to comfort him, 15 + O lovelye Barbara Allen." + + "Though death be printed on his face, + And ore his harte is stealin, + Yet little better shall he bee + For bonny Barbara Allen." 20 + + So slowly, slowly, she came up, + And slowly she came nye him; + And all she sayd, when there she came, + "Yong man, I think y'are dying." + + He turned his face unto her strait, 25 + With deadlye sorrow sighing; + "O lovely maid, come pity mee, + I'me on my death-bed lying." + + "If on your death-bed you doe lye, + What needs the tale you are tellin? 30 + I cannot keep you from your death; + Farewell," sayd Barbara Allen. + + He turnd his face unto the wall, + As deadlye pangs he fell in: + "Adieu! adieu! adieu to you all, 35 + Adieu to Barbara Allen!" + + As she was walking ore the fields, + She heard the bell a knellin; + And every stroke did seem to saye, + "Unworthy Barbara Allen!" 40 + + She turnd her bodye round about, + And spied the corps a coming: + "Laye down, laye down the corps," she sayd, + "That I may look upon him." + + With scornful eye she looked downe, 45 + Her cheeke with laughter swellin, + Whilst all her friends cryd out amaine, + "Unworthye Barbara Allen!" + + When he was dead, and laid in grave, + Her harte was struck with sorrowe; 50 + "O mother, mother, make my bed, + For I shall dye to-morrowe. + + "Hard-harted creature him to slight, + Who loved me so dearlye: + O that I had beene more kind to him, 55 + When he was alive and neare me!" + + She, on her death-bed as she laye, + Beg'd to be buried by him, + And sore repented of the daye, + That she did ere denye him. 60 + + "Farewell," she sayd, "ye virgins all, + And shun the fault I fell in: + Henceforth take warning by the fall + Of cruel Barbara Allen." + + + + +LORD LOVEL. + + +"This ballad, taken down from the recitation of a lady in +Roxburghshire, appears to claim affinity to Border Song; and the +title of the 'discourteous squire', would incline one to suppose +that it has derived its origin from some circumstance connected with +the county of Northumberland, where Lovel was anciently a well-known +name." Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 31. + +A version from a recent broadside is printed in _Ancient Poems, +Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England_, Percy Society, vol. +xvii. p. 78. + +A fragment of a similar story, the relations of the parties being +reversed, is _Lady Alice_, given in Bell's Ballads of the Peasantry, +p. 127, and _Notes and Queries_, 2d S, i. 418.--Compare also _Fair +Margaret_, &c. p. 140. + + Lord Lovel stands at his stable door, + Mounted upon a grey steed; + And bye came Ladie Nanciebel, + And wish'd Lord Lovel much speed. + + "O whare are ye going, Lord Lovel, 5 + My dearest tell to me?" + "O I am going a far journey, + Some strange countrie to see; + + "But I'll return in seven long years, + Lady Nanciebel to see." 10 + "O seven, seven, seven long years, + They are much too long for me." + + * * * * * * * + + He was gane a year away, + A year but barely ane, + When a strange fancy cam into his head, 15 + That fair Nanciebel was gane. + + It's then he rade, and better rade, + Until he cam to the toun, + And then he heard a dismal noise, + For the church bells a' did soun'. 20 + + He asked what the bells rang for; + They said, "It's for Nanciebel; + She died for a discourteous squire, + And his name is Lord Lovel." + + The lid o' the coffin he opened up, 25 + The linens he faulded doun; + And ae he kiss'd her pale, pale lips, + And the tears cam trinkling doun. + + "Weill may I kiss those pale, pale lips, + For they will never kiss me;-- 30 + I'll mak a vow, and keep it true, + That they'll ne'er kiss ane but thee." + + Lady Nancie died on Tuesday's nicht, + Lord Lovel upon the niest day; + Lady Nancie died for pure, pure love, 35 + Lord Lovel, for deep sorray. + + + + +LORD SALTON AND AUCHANACHIE. + + +The following fragment was first published in Maidment's _North +Countrie Garland_, p. 10; shortly after, in Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. +161. A more complete copy, from Buchan's larger collection, is +annexed. + + * * * * * * + + Ben came her father, + Skipping on the floor, + Said, "Jeanie, you're trying + The tricks of a whore. + + "You're caring for him 5 + That cares not for thee, + And I pray you take Salton, + Let Auchanachie be." + + "I will not have Salton, + It lies low by the sea; 10 + He is bowed in the back, + He's thrawen in the knee; + And I'll die if I get not + My brave Auchanachie." + + "I am bowed in the back, 15 + Lassie as ye see, + But the bonny lands of Salton + Are no crooked tee." + + And when she was married + She would not lie down, 20 + But they took out a knife, + And cuttit her gown; + + Likewise of her stays + The lacing in three, + And now she lies dead 25 + For her Auchanachie. + + Out comes her bower-woman, + Wringing her hands, + Says, "Alas for the staying + So long on the sands! 30 + + "Alas for the staying + So long on the flood! + For Jeanie was married, + And now she is dead." + + + + +LORD SALTON AND AUCHANACHIE. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 133. + + + "Auchanachie Gordon is bonny and braw, + He would tempt any woman that ever he saw; + He would tempt any woman, so has he tempted me, + And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie." + + In came her father, tripping on the floor, 5 + Says, "Jeanie, ye're trying the tricks o' a whore; + Ye're caring for them that cares little for thee, + Ye must marry Salton, leave Auchanachie. + + "Auchanachie Gordon, he is but a man, + Altho' he be pretty, where lies his free land? 10 + Salton's lands they lie broad, his towers they stand hie, + Ye must marry Salton, leave Auchanachie. + + "Salton will gar you wear silk gowns fring'd to thy knee, + But ye'll never wear that wi' your love Auchanachie." + "Wi' Auchanachie Gordon I would beg my bread, 15 + Before that wi' Salton I'd wear gowd on my head; + + "Wear gowd on my head, or gowns fring'd to the knee, + And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie; + O Salton's valley lies low by the sea, + He's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee." 20 + + "O Salton's a valley lies low by the sea; + Though he's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee, + Though he's bowed on the back, and thrawin on the knee, + The bonny rigs of Salton they're nae thrawin tee." + + "O you that are my parents to church may me bring, 25 + But unto young Salton I'll never bear a son; + For son, or for daughter, I'll ne'er bow my knee, + And I'll die if I getna my love Auchanachie." + + When Jeanie was married, from church was brought hame, + When she wi' her maidens sae merry shou'd hae been, 30 + When she wi' her maidens sae merry shou'd hae been, + She's called for a chamber to weep there her lane. + + "Come to your bed, Jeanie, my honey and my sweet, + For to stile you mistress I do not think it meet." + "Mistress, or Jeanie, it is a' ane to me, 35 + It's in your bed, Salton, I never will be." + + Then out spake her father, he spake wi' renown, + "Some of you that are maidens, ye'll loose aff her gown; + Some of you that are maidens, ye'll loose aff her gown, + And I'll mend the marriage wi' ten thousand crowns." 40 + + Then ane of her maidens they loosed aff her gown, + But bonny Jeanie Gordon, she fell in a swoon; + She fell in a swoon low down by their knee; + Says, "Look on, I die for my love Auchanachie!" + + That very same day Miss Jeanie did die, 45 + And hame came Auchanachie, hame frae the sea; + Her father and mither welcom'd him at the gate; + He said, "Where's Miss Jeanie, that she's nae here yet?" + + Then forth came her maidens, all wringing their hands, + Saying, "Alas! for your staying sae lang frae the land: 50 + Sae lang frae the land, and sae lang fra the fleed, + They've wedded your Jeanie, and now she is dead!" + + "Some of you, her maidens, take me by the hand, + And show me the chamber Miss Jeanie died in;" + He kiss'd her cold lips, which were colder than stane, 55 + And he died in the chamber that Jeanie died in. + + + + +WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET. + + +A fragment obtained by Jamieson from the recitation of Mrs. Brown, +of Falkland. _Popular Ballads_, i. 135. In connection with this we +give the complete story from Buchan. Aytoun has changed the title to +_The Mother's Malison_. An Italian ballad, containing a story +similar to that of this ballad and the two following (but of +independent origin), is _La Maledizione Materna_, in Marcoaldi's +_Canti Popolari_, p. 170. + + "Gie corn to my horse, mither; + Gie meat unto my man; + For I maun gang to Margaret's bower, + Before the nicht comes on." + + "O stay at hame now, my son Willie! 5 + The wind blaws cald and sour; + The nicht will be baith mirk and late, + Before ye reach her bower." + + "O tho' the nicht were ever sae dark, + Or the wind blew never sae cald, 10 + I will be in my Margaret's bower + Before twa hours be tald." + + "O gin ye gang to May Margaret, + Without the leave of me, + Clyde's water's wide and deep enough;-- 15 + My malison drown thee!" + + He mounted on his coal-black steed, + And fast he rade awa'; + But, ere he came to Clyde's water, + Fu' loud the wind did blaw. 20 + + As he rode o'er yon hich, hich hill, + And down yon dowie den, + There was a roar in Clyde's water + Wad fear'd a hunder men. + + His heart was warm, his pride was up; 25 + Sweet Willie kentna fear; + But yet his mither's malison + Ay sounded in his ear. + + O he has swam through Clyde's water, + Tho' it was wide and deep; 30 + And he came to May Margaret's door, + When a' were fast asleep. + + O he's gane round and round about, + And tirled at the pin; + But doors were steek'd, and window's bar'd, 35 + And nane wad let him in. + + "O open the door to me, Margaret,-- + O open and lat me in! + For my boots are full o' Clyde's water, + And frozen to the brim." 40 + + "I darena open the door to you, + Nor darena lat you in; + For my mither she is fast asleep, + And I darena mak nae din." + + "O gin ye winna open the door, 45 + Nor yet be kind to me, + Now tell me o' some out-chamber, + Where I this nicht may be." + + "Ye canna win in this nicht, Willie, + Nor here ye canna be; 50 + For I've nae chambers out nor in, + Nae ane but barely three: + + "The tane o' them is fu' o' corn, + The tither is fu' o' hay; + The tither is fu' o' merry young men;-- 55 + They winna remove till day." + + "O fare ye weel, then, May Margaret, + Sin better manna be; + I've win my mither's malison, + Coming this nicht to thee." 60 + + He's mounted on his coal-black steed,-- + O but his heart was wae! + But, ere he came to Clyde's water, + 'Twas half up o'er the brae. + + * * * * * * * + + ---- he plunged in, + But never raise again. + + + + +THE DROWNED LOVERS. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 140. The copy +in the Appendix to Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. iii., is nearly the +same. + + + Willie stands in his stable door, + And clapping at his steed; + And looking o'er his white fingers, + His nose began to bleed. + + "Gie corn to my horse, mother; 5 + And meat to my young man; + And I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, + I'll win ere she lie down." + + "O bide this night wi' me, Willie, + O bide this night wi' me; 10 + The best an' cock o' a' the reest, + At your supper shall be. + + "A' your cocks, and a' your reests, + I value not a prin; + For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, 15 + I'll win ere she lie down." + + "Stay this night wi' me, Willie, + O stay this night wi' me; + The best an' sheep in a' the flock + At your supper shall be." 20 + + "A' your sheep, and a' your flocks, + I value not a prin; + For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, + I'll win ere she lie down." + + "O an' ye gang to Meggie's bower, 25 + Sae sair against my will, + The deepest pot in Clyde's water, + My malison ye's feel." + + "The guid steed that I ride upon + Cost me thrice thretty pound; 30 + And I'll put trust in his swift feet, + To hae me safe to land." + + As he rade ower yon high, high hill, + And down yon dowie den, + The noise that was in Clyde's water 35 + Wou'd fear'd five huner men. + + "O roaring Clyde, ye roar ower loud, + Your streams seem wond'rous strang; + Make me your wreck as I come back,[L39] + But spare me as I gang." 40 + + Then he is on to Meggie's bower, + And tirled at the pin; + "O sleep ye, wake ye, Meggie," he said, + "Ye'll open, lat me come in." + + "O wha is this at my bower door, 45 + That calls me by my name?" + "It is your first love, sweet Willie, + This night newly come hame." + + "I hae few lovers thereout, thereout, + As few hae I therein; 50 + The best an' love that ever I had, + Was here just late yestreen." + + "The warstan stable in a' your stables, + For my puir steed to stand; + The warstan bower in a' your bowers, 55 + For me to lie therein: + My boots are fu' o' Clyde's water, + I'm shivering at the chin." + + "My barns are fu' o' corn, Willie, + My stables are fu' o' hay; 60 + My bowers are fu' o' gentlemen;-- + They'll nae remove till day." + + "O fare-ye-well, my fause Meggie, + O farewell, and adieu; + I've gotten my mither's malison, 65 + This night coming to you." + + As he rode ower yon high, high hill, + And down yon dowie den; + The rushing that was in Clyde's water + Took Willie's cane frae him. 70 + + He lean'd him ower his saddle bow, + To catch his cane again; + The rushing that was in Clyde's water + Took Willie's hat frae him. + + He lean'd him ower his saddle bow, 75 + To catch his hat thro' force; + The rushing that was in Clyde's water + Took Willie frae his horse. + + His brither stood upo' the bank, + Says, "Fye, man, will ye drown? 80 + Ye'll turn ye to your high horse head, + And learn how to sowm." + + "How can I turn to my horse head, + And learn how to sowm? + I've gotten my mither's malison, 85 + Its here that I maun drown!" + + The very hour this young man sank + Into the pot sae deep, + Up it waken'd his love, Meggie, + Out o' her drowsy sleep. 90 + + "Come here, come here, my mither dear, + And read this dreary dream; + I dream'd my love was at our gates, + And nane wad let him in." + + "Lye still, lye still now, my Meggie. 95 + Lye still and tak your rest; + Sin' your true love was at your yates, + It's but twa quarters past." + + Nimbly, nimbly raise she up, + And nimbly pat she on; 100 + And the higher that the lady cried, + The louder blew the win'. + + The first an' step that she stepp'd in, + She stepped to the queet; + "Ohon, alas!" said that lady, 105 + "This water's wond'rous deep." + + The next an' step that she wade in, + She wadit to the knee; + Says she, "I cou'd wide farther in, + If I my love cou'd see." 110 + + The next an' step that she wade in, + She wadit to the chin; + The deepest pot in Clyde's water + She got sweet Willie in. + + "You've had a cruel mither, Willie, 115 + And I have had anither; + But we shall sleep in Clyde's water, + Like sister an' like brither." + +39, 40. Found also in _Leander on the Bay_, and taken from the +epigram of Martial: + + "Clamabat tumidis audax Leander in undis, + Mergite me fluctus, cum rediturus ero." + + + + +WILLIE'S DROWNED IN GAMERY. + + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 245. A +fragment, exhibiting some differences, is among those ballads of +Buchan which are published in the Percy Society's volumes, xvii. 66. +Four stanzas, of a superior cast, upon the same story, are printed +in the _Tea-Table Miscellany_, (ii. 141.) + + _Rare Willy drown'd in Yarrow._ + + "Willy's rare, and Willy's fair, + And Willy's wond'rous bonny; + And Willy heght to marry me, + Gin e'er he married ony. + + "Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid, + This night I'll make it narrow; + For a' the livelang winter night + I ly twin'd of my marrow. + + "O came you by yon water-side? + Pou'd you the rose or lilly? + Or came you by yon meadow green? + Or saw you my sweet Willy?" + + She sought him east, she sought him west, + She sought him braid and narrow; + Syne in the cleaving of a craig, + She found him drown'd in Yarrow. + +These stanzas furnished the theme to Logan's _Braes of Yarrow_. + + + "O Willie is fair, and Willie is rare, + And Willie is wond'rous bonny; + And Willie says he'll marry me, + Gin ever he marry ony." + + "O ye'se get James, or ye'se get George, 5 + Or ye's get bonny Johnnie; + Ye'se get the flower o' a' my sons, + Gin ye'll forsake my Willie." + + "O what care I for James or George, + Or yet for bonny Peter? 10 + I dinna value their love a leek, + An' I getna Willie the writer." + + "O Willie has a bonny hand, + And dear but it is bonny;" + "He has nae mair for a' his land; 15 + What wou'd ye do wi' Willie?" + + "O Willie has a bonny face, + And dear but it is bonny;" + "But Willie has nae other grace; + What wou'd ye do wi' Willie?" 20 + + "Willie's fair, and Willie's rare, + And Willie's wond'rous bonny; + There's nane wi' him that can compare, + I love him best of ony." + + On Wednesday, that fatal day, 25 + The people were convening; + Besides all this, threescore and ten, + To gang to the bridesteel wi' him. + + "Ride on, ride on, my merry men a', + I've forgot something behind me; 30 + I've forgot to get my mother's blessing, + To gae to the bridesteel wi' me." + + "Your Peggy she's but bare fifteen, + And ye are scarcely twenty; + The water o' Gamery is wide and braid, 35 + My heavy curse gang wi' thee!" + + Then they rode on, and further on, + Till they came on to Gamery; + The wind was loud, the stream was proud, + And wi' the stream gaed Willie. 40 + + Then they rode on, and further on, + Till they came to the kirk o' Gamery; + And every one on high horse sat, + But Willie's horse rade toomly. + + When they were settled at that place, 45 + The people fell a mourning; + And a council held amo' them a', + But sair, sair wept Kinmundy. + + Then out it speaks the bride hersell, + Says, "What means a' this mourning? 50 + Where is the man amo' them a', + That shou'd gie me fair wedding?" + + Then out it speaks his brother John, + Says, "Meg, I'll tell you plainly; + The stream was strong, the clerk rade wrong, 55 + And Willie's drown'd in Gamery." + + She put her hand up to her head, + Where were the ribbons many; + She rave them a', let them down fa', + And straightway ran to Gamery. 60 + + She sought it up, she sought it down, + Till she was wet and weary; + And in the middle part o' it, + There she got her deary. + + Then she stroak'd back his yellow hair, 65 + And kiss'd his mou' sae comely; + "My mother's heart's be as wae as thine; + We'se baith asleep in the water o' Gamery." + + + + +ANNAN WATER. + +_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 282. + + +"The following verses are the original words of the tune of _Allan +Water_, by which name the song is mentioned in Ramsay's _Tea-Table +Miscellany_. The ballad is given from tradition; and it is said that +a bridge over the Annan, was built in consequence of the melancholy +catastrophe which it narrates. Two verses are added in this edition, +from another copy of the ballad, in which the conclusion proves +fortunate. By the _Gatehope-Slack_, is perhaps meant the +_Gate-Slack_, a pass in Annandale. The Annan, and the Frith of +Solway, into which it falls, are the frequent scenes of tragical +accidents. The Editor trusts he will be pardoned for inserting the +following awfully impressive account of such an event, contained in +a letter from Dr. Currie, of Liverpool, by whose correspondence, +while in the course of preparing these volumes for the press, he has +been alike honoured and instructed. After stating that he had some +recollection of the ballad which follows, the biographer of Burns +proceeds thus:--'I once in my early days heard (for it was night, +and I could not see) a traveller drowning; not in the Annan itself, +but in the Frith of Solway, close by the mouth of that river. The +influx of the tide had unhorsed him, in the night, as he was passing +the sands from Cumberland. The west wind blew a tempest, and, +according to the common expression, brought in the water _three foot +a-breast_. The traveller got upon a standing net, a little way from +the shore. There he lashed himself to the post, shouting for half an +hour for assistance--till the tide rose over his head! In the +darkness of the night, and amid the pauses of the hurricane, his +voice, heard at intervals, was exquisitely mournful. No one could go +to his assistance--no one knew where he was--the sound seemed to +proceed from the spirit of the waters. But morning rose--the tide +had ebbed--and the poor traveller was found lashed to the pole of +the net, and bleaching in the wind.'" + + SCOTT. + + "Annan water's wading deep, + And my love Annie's wondrous bonny; + And I am laith she suld weet her feet, + Because I love her best of ony. + + "Gar saddle me the bonny black, 5 + Gar saddle sune, and make him ready; + For I will down the Gatehope-Slack, + And all to see my bonny ladye."-- + + He has loupen on the bonny black, + He stirr'd him wi' the spur right sairly; 10 + But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack, + I think the steed was wae and weary. + + He has loupen on the bonny grey, + He rade the right gate and the ready; + I trow he would neither stint nor stay, 15 + For he was seeking his bonny ladye. + + O he has ridden o'er field and fell, + Through muir and moss, and mony a mire: + His spurs o' steel were sair to bide, + And fra her fore-feet flew the fire. 20 + + "Now, bonny grey, now play your part! + Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary, + Wi' corn and hay ye'se be fed for aye, + And never spur sall make you wearie."-- + + The grey was a mare, and a right good mare; 25 + But when she wan the Annan water, + She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair, + Had a thousand merks been wadded at her. + + "O boatman, boatman, put off your boat! + Put off your boat for gowden money! 30 + I cross the drumly stream the night, + Or never mair I see my honey."-- + + "O I was sworn sae late yestreen, + And not by ae aith, but by many; + And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland, 35 + I dare na take ye through to Annie." + + The side was stey, and the bottom deep, + Frae bank to brae the water pouring; + And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear, + For she heard the water-kelpy roaring. 40 + + O he has pou'd aff his dapperby coat, + The silver buttons glanced bonny; + The waistcoat bursted aff his breast, + He was sae full of melancholy. + + He has ta'en the ford at that stream tail; 45 + I wot he swam both strong and steady; + But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail, + And he never saw his bonny ladye! + + "O wae betide the frush saugh wand! + And wae betide the bush of brier! 50 + It brake into my true love's hand, + When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire. + + "And wae betide ye, Annan Water, + This night that ye are a drumlie river! + For over thee I'll build a bridge, 55 + That ye never more true love may sever."-- + + + + +ANDREW LAMMIE. + + +"From a stall copy published at Glasgow several years ago, collated +with a recited copy, which has furnished one or two verbal +improvements." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 239. + +Mr. Jamieson has published two other sets of this simple, but +touching ditty, (i. 126, ii. 382,) one of which is placed after the +present. Motherwell's text is almost verbatim that of Buchan's +_Gleanings_, p. 98. The _Thistle of Scotland_ copies Buchan and +Jamieson without acknowledgment. + +The story has been made the foundation of a rude drama in the North +of Scotland. For a description of similar entertainments, see +Cunningham's Introduction to his _Songs of Scotland_, i. 148. + +The unfortunate maiden's name, according to Buchan, (_Gleanings_, p. +197,) "was Annie, or Agnes, (which are synonymous in some parts of +Scotland,) Smith, who died of a broken heart on the 9th of January, +1631, as is to be found on a roughly cut stone, broken in many +pieces, in the green churchyard of Fyvie." "What afterwards became +of Bonny Andrew Lammie," says Jamieson, "we have not been able to +learn; but the current tradition of the 'Lawland leas of Fyvie', +says, that some years subsequent to the melancholy fate of poor +Tifty's Nanny, her sad story being mentioned, and the ballad sung in +a company in Edinburgh when he was present, he remained silent and +motionless, till he was discovered by a groan suddenly bursting from +him, and _several of the buttons flying from his waistcoat_." + + At Mill o' Tifty liv'd a man, + In the neighbourhood of Fyvie; + He had a lovely daughter fair, + Was called bonny Annie. + + Her bloom was like the springing flower 5 + That salutes the rosy morning; + With innocence and graceful mien + Her beauteous form adorning. + + Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter + Whose name was Andrew Lammie; 10 + He had the art to gain the heart + Of Mill o' Tiftie's Annie. + + Proper he was, both young and gay, + His like was not in Fyvie; + No one was there that could compare 15 + With this same Andrew Lammie. + + Lord Fyvie he rode by the door, + Where lived Tiftie's Annie; + His trumpeter rode him before, + Even this same Andrew Lammie. 20 + + Her mother call'd her to the door: + "Come here to me, my Annie; + Did you ever see a prettier man + Than this Trumpeter of Fyvie?" + + She sighed sore, but said no more, 25 + Alas, for bonny Annie! + She durst not own her heart was won + By the Trumpeter of Fyvie. + + At night when they went to their beds, + All slept full sound but Annie; 30 + Love so opprest her tender breast, + Thinking on Andrew Lammie. + + "Love comes in at my bed side, + And love lies down beyond me; + Love has possess'd my tender breast, 35 + And love will waste my body. + + "The first time I and my love met + Was in the woods of Fyvie; + His lovely form and speech so sweet + Soon gain'd the heart of Annie. 40 + + "He called me mistress; I said, No, + I'm Tiftie's bonny Annie; + With apples sweet he did me treat, + And kisses soft and many. + + "It's up and down in Tiftie's den, 45 + Where the burn runs clear and bonny, + I've often gone to meet my love, + My bonny Andrew Lammie." + + But now, alas! her father heard + That the Trumpeter of Fyvie 50 + Had had the art to gain the heart + Of Tiftie's bonny Annie. + + Her father soon a letter wrote, + And sent it on to Fyvie, + To tell his daughter was bewitch'd 55 + By his servant Andrew Lammie. + + When Lord Fyvie had this letter read, + O dear! but he was sorry; + The bonniest lass in Fyvie's land + Is bewitched by Andrew Lammie. 60 + + Then up the stair his trumpeter + He called soon and shortly: + "Pray tell me soon, what's this you've done + To Tiftie's bonny Annie?" + + "In wicked art I had no part, 65 + Nor therein am I canny; + True love alone the heart has won + Of Tiftie's bonny Annie. + + "Woe betide Mill o' Tiftie's pride, + For it has ruin'd many; 70 + He'll no ha'e 't said that she should wed + The Trumpeter of Fyvie. + + "Where will I find a boy so kind, + That'll carry a letter canny, + Who will run on to Tiftie's town, 75 + Give it to my love Annie?" + + "Here you shall find a boy so kind, + Who'll carry a letter canny, + Who will run on to Tiftie's town, + And gi'e 't to thy love Annie." 80 + + "It's Tiftie he has daughters three, + Who all are wondrous bonny; + But ye'll ken her o'er a' the lave, + Gi'e that to bonny Annie." + + "It's up and down in Tiftie's den, 85 + Where the burn runs clear and bonny; + There wilt thou come and meet thy love, + Thy bonny Andrew Lammie. + + "When wilt thou come, and I'll attend? + My love, I long to see thee." 90 + "Thou may'st come to the bridge of Sleugh, + And there I'll come and meet thee." + + "My love, I go to Edinbro', + And for a while must leave thee;" + She sighed sore, and said no more 95 + But "I wish that I were wi' thee." + + "I'll buy to thee a bridal gown, + My love, I'll buy it bonny;" + "But I'll be dead, ere ye come back + To see your bonnie Annie." 100 + + "If you'll be true and constant too, + As my name's Andrew Lammie, + I shall thee wed, when I come back + To see the lands of Fyvie." + + "I will be true, and constant too, 105 + To thee, my Andrew Lammie; + But my bridal bed will ere then be made, + In the green churchyard of Fyvie." + + "Our time is gone, and now comes on, + My dear, that I must leave thee; 110 + If longer here I should appear, + Mill o' Tiftie he would see me." + + "I now for ever bid adieu + To thee, my Andrew Lammie; + Ere ye come back, I will be laid 115 + In the green churchyard of Fyvie." + + He hied him to the head of the house, + To the house top of Fyvie; + He blew his trumpet loud and schill; + 'Twas heard at Mill o' Tiftie. 120 + + Her father lock'd the door at night, + Laid by the keys fu' canny; + And when he heard the trumpet sound, + Said, "Your cow is lowing, Annie." + + "My father dear, I pray forbear, 125 + And reproach no more your Annie; + For I'd rather hear that cow to low, + Than ha'e a' the kine in Fyvie. + + "I would not, for my braw new gown, + And a' your gifts sae many, 130 + That it were told in Fyvie's land + How cruel you are to Annie. + + "But if ye strike me, I will cry, + And gentlemen will hear me; + Lord Fyvie will be riding by, 135 + And he'll come in and see me." + + At the same time, the Lord came in; + He said, "What ails thee, Annie?" + "'Tis all for love now I must die, + For bonny Andrew Lammie." 140 + + "Pray, Mill o' Tifty, gi'e consent, + And let your daughter marry." + "It will be with some higher match + Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie." + + "If she were come of as high a kind 145 + As she's adorned with beauty, + I would take her unto myself, + And make her mine own lady." + + "It's Fyvie's lands are fair and wide, + And they are rich and bonny; 150 + I would not leave my own true love, + For all the lands of Fyvie." + + Her father struck her wondrous sore, + And also did her mother; + Her sisters always did her scorn; 155 + But woe be to her brother! + + Her brother struck her wondrous sore, + With cruel strokes and many; + He brake her back in the hall door, + For liking Andrew Lammie. 160 + + "Alas! my father and mother dear, + Why so cruel to your Annie? + My heart was broken first by love, + My brother has broken my body. + + "O mother dear, make ye my bed, 165 + And lay my face to Fyvie; + Thus will I ly, and thus will die, + For my love, Andrew Lammie! + + "Ye neighbours, hear, both far and near; + Ye pity Tiftie's Annie, 170 + Who dies for love of one poor lad, + For bonny Andrew Lammie. + + "No kind of vice e'er stain'd my life, + Nor hurt my virgin honour; + My youthful heart was won by love, 175 + But death will me exoner." + + Her mother then she made her bed, + And laid her face to Fyvie; + Her tender heart it soon did break, + And ne'er saw Andrew Lammie. 180 + + But the word soon went up and down, + Through all the lands of Fyvie, + That she was dead and buried, + Even Tiftie's bonny Annie. + + Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands, 185 + Said, "Alas, for Tiftie's Annie! + The fairest flower's cut down by love, + That e'er sprung up in Fyvie. + + "O woe betide Mill o' Tiftie's pride! + He might have let them marry; 190 + I should have giv'n them both to live + Into the lands of Fyvie." + + Her father sorely now laments + The loss of his dear Annie, + And wishes he had gi'en consent 195 + To wed with Andrew Lammie. + + Her mother grieves both air and late; + Her sisters, 'cause they scorn'd her; + Surely her brother doth mourn and grieve, + For the cruel usage he'd giv'n her. 200 + + But now, alas! it was too late, + For they could not recal her; + Through life, unhappy is their fate, + Because they did controul her. + + When Andrew hame from Edinburgh came, 205 + With meikle grief and sorrow, + "My love has died for me to-day, + I'll die for her to-morrow. + + "Now I will on to Tiftie's den, + Where the burn runs clear and bonny; 210 + With tears I'll view the bridge of Sleugh,[L211] + Where I parted last with Annie. + + "Then will I speed to the churchyard, + To the green churchyard of Fyvie; + With tears I'll water my love's grave, 215 + Till I follow Tiftie's Annie." + + Ye parents grave, who children have, + In crushing them be canny, + Lest when too late you do repent; + Remember Tiftie's Annie. 220 + +211. "In one printed copy this is 'Sheugh', and in a recited copy +it was called 'Skew'; which is the right reading, the editor, from +his ignorance of the topography of the lands of Fyvie, is unable to +say. It is a received superstition in Scotland, that, when friends +or lovers part at a bridge, they shall never again meet." +MOTHERWELL. + + + + +THE TRUMPETER OF FYVIE. + + +"The ballad was taken down by Dr. Leyden from the recitation of a +young lady (Miss Robson) of Edinburgh, who learned it in Teviotdale. +It was current in the Border counties within these few years, as it +still is in the northeast of Scotland, where the scene is laid." +Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 129. + + At Fyvie's yetts there grows a flower, + It grows baith braid and bonny; + There's a daisie in the midst o' it, + And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie. + + "O gin that flower war in my breast, 5 + For the love I bear the laddie; + I wad kiss it, and I wad clap it, + And daut it for Andrew Lammie. + + "The first time me and my love met, + Was in the woods of Fyvie; 10 + He kissed my lips five thousand times, + And ay he ca'd me bonny; + And a' the answer he gat frae me, + Was, My bonny Andrew Lammie!" + + "'Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh; 15 + Love, I maun gang and leave thee;' + I sighed right sair, and said nae mair, + But, O gin I were wi' ye!" + + "But true and trusty will I be, + As I am Andrew Lammie; 20 + I'll never kiss a woman's mouth, + Till I come back and see thee." + + "And true and trusty will I be, + As I am Tiftie's Annie; + I'll never kiss a man again, 25 + Till ye come back and see me." + + Syne he's come back frae Edinburgh, + To the bonny hows o' Fyvie; + And ay his face to the nor-east, + To look for Tiftie's Annie. 30 + + "I ha'e a love in Edinburgh, + Sae ha'e I intill Leith, man; + I hae a love intill Montrose, + Sae ha'e I in Dalkeith, man. + + "And east and west, where'er I go, 35 + My love she's always wi' me; + For east and west, where'er I go, + My love she dwells in Fyvie. + + "My love possesses a' my heart, + Nae pen can e'er indite her; 40 + She's ay sae stately as she goes, + That I see nae mae like her. + + "But Tiftie winna gi'e consent + His dochter me to marry, + Because she has five thousand marks, 45 + And I have not a penny. + + "Love pines away, love dwines away, + Love, love, decays the body; + For love o' thee, oh I must die; + Adieu, my bonny Annie!" 50 + + Her mither raise out o' her bed, + And ca'd on baith her women: + "What ails ye, Annie, my dochter dear? + O Annie, was ye dreamin'? + + "What dule disturb'd my dochter's sleep? 55 + O tell to me, my Annie!" + She sighed right sair, and said nae mair, + But, "O for Andrew Lammie!" + + Her father beat her cruellie, + Sae also did her mother; 60 + Her sisters sair did scoff at her; + But wae betide her brother! + + Her brother beat her cruellie, + Till his straiks they werena canny; + He brak her back, and he beat her sides, 65 + For the sake o' Andrew Lammie. + + "O fie, O fie, my brother dear, + The gentlemen 'll shame ye; + The laird o' Fyvie he's gaun by, + And he'll come in and see me. 70 + + And he'll kiss me, and he'll clap me, + And he will speer what ails me; + And I will answer him again, + It's a' for Andrew Lammie." + + Her sisters they stood in the door, 75 + Sair griev'd her wi' their folly; + "O sister dear, come to the door, + Your cow is lowin on you." + + "O fie, O fie, my sister dear, + Grieve me not wi' your folly; 80 + I'd rather hear the trumpet sound, + Than a' the kye o' Fyvie. + + "Love pines away, love dwines away, + Love, love decays the body; + For love o' thee now I maun die-- 85 + Adieu to Andrew Lammie!" + + But Tiftie's wrote a braid letter, + And sent it into Fyvie, + Saying, his daughter was bewitch'd + By bonny Andrew Lammie. 90 + + "Now, Tiftie, ye maun gi'e consent, + And lat the lassie marry." + "I'll never, never gi'e consent + To the Trumpeter of Fyvie." + + When Fyvie looked the letter on, 95 + He was baith sad and sorry: + Says--"The bonniest lass o' the country-side + Has died for Andrew Lammie." + + O Andrew's gane to the house-top + O' the bonny house o' Fyvie; 100 + He's blawn his horn baith loud and shill + O'er the lawland leas o' Fyvie. + + "Mony a time ha'e I walk'd a' night, + And never yet was weary; + But now I may walk wae my lane, 105 + For I'll never see my deary. + + "Love pines away, love dwines away, + Love, love, decays the body: + For the love o' thee, now I maun die-- + I come, my bonny Annie!" 110 + + + + +FAIR HELEN OF KIRCONNELL. + + +"The following very popular ballad has been handed down by tradition +in its present imperfect state. The affecting incident on which it +is founded is well known. A lady, of the name of Helen Irving, or +Bell, (for this is disputed by the two clans,) daughter of the Laird +of Kirconnell, in Dumfries-shire, and celebrated for her beauty, was +beloved by two gentlemen in the neighbourhood. The name of the +favoured suitor was Adam Fleming of Kirkpatrick; that of the other +has escaped tradition: though it has been alleged that he was a +Bell, of Blacket House. The addresses of the latter were, however, +favoured by the friends of the lady, and the lovers were therefore +obliged to meet in secret, and by night, in the churchyard of +Kirconnell, a romantic spot, almost surrounded by the river Kirtle. +During one of these private interviews, the jealous and despised +lover suddenly appeared on the opposite bank of the stream, and +levelled his carabine at the breast of his rival. Helen threw +herself before her lover, received in her bosom the bullet, and died +in his arms. A desperate and mortal combat ensued between Fleming +and the murderer, in which the latter was cut to pieces. Other +accounts say, that Fleming pursued his enemy to Spain, and slew him +in the streets of Madrid. + +"The ballad, as now published, consists of two parts. The first +seems to be an address, either by Fleming or his rival, to the lady; +if, indeed, it constituted any portion of the original poem. For the +Editor cannot help suspecting, that these verses have been the +production of a different and inferior bard, and only adapted to the +original measure and tune. But this suspicion being unwarranted by +any copy he has been able to procure, he does not venture to do more +than intimate his own opinion. The second part, by far the most +beautiful, and which is unquestionably original, forms the lament of +Fleming over the grave of fair Helen. + +"The ballad is here given, without alteration or improvement, from +the most accurate copy which could be recovered. The fate of Helen +has not, however, remained unsung by modern bards. A lament, of +great poetical merit, by the learned historian, Mr. Pinkerton, with +several other poems on this subject, have been printed in various +forms.[B] + +"The grave of the lovers is yet shown in the churchyard of +Kirconnell, near Springkell. Upon the tombstone can still be +read--_Hic jacet Adamus Fleming_; a cross and sword are sculptured +on the stone. The former is called by the country people, the gun +with which Helen was murdered; and the latter the avenging sword of +her lover. _Sit illis terra levis!_ A heap of stones is raised on +the spot where the murder was committed; a token of abhorrence +common to most nations." _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. +98. + + [B] For Pinkerton's elegy, see his _Select Scottish Ballads_, i. + 109; for Mayne's, the _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. 86, Part ii. 64. + Jamieson has enfeebled the story in _Popular Ballads_, i. 205, and + Wordsworth's _Ellen Irwin_ hardly deserves more praise. ED. + +Versions of the Second Part, (which alone deserves notice,) nearly +agreeing with Scott's, are given in the Illustrations to the new +edition of Johnson's _Museum_, p. 143, by Mr. Stenhouse, p. 210, by +Mr. Sharpe. Inferior and fragmentary ones in Herd's _Scottish +Songs_, i. 257; Johnson's _Museum_, 163; Ritson's _Scottish Song_, +i. 145; Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 203. + + +FAIR HELEN. + +PART FIRST. + + + O! sweetest sweet, and fairest fair, + Of birth and worth beyond compare, + Thou art the causer of my care, + Since first I loved thee. + + Yet God hath given to me a mind, 5 + The which to thee shall prove as kind + As any one that thou shalt find, + Of high or low degree. + + The shallowest water makes maist din, + The deadest pool the deepest linn; 10 + The richest man least truth within, + Though he preferred be. + + Yet, nevertheless, I am content, + And never a whit my love repent, + But think the time was a' weel spent, 15 + Though I disdained be. + + O! Helen sweet, and maist complete, + My captive spirit's at thy feet! + Thinks thou still fit thus for to treat + Thy captive cruelly? 20 + + O! Helen brave! but this I crave, + Of thy poor slave some pity have, + And do him save that's near his grave, + And dies for love of thee. + + +FAIR HELEN. + +PART SECOND. + + + I wish I were where Helen lies, + Night and day on me she cries; + O that I were where Helen lies, + On fair Kirconnell Lee! + + Curst be the heart that thought the thought, 5 + And curst the hand that fired the shot, + When in my arms burd Helen dropt, + And died to succour me! + + O think na ye my heart was sair, + When my love dropt down and spak nae mair! 10 + There did she swoon wi' meikle care, + On fair Kirconnell Lee. + + As I went down the water side, + None but my foe to be my guide, + None but my foe to be my guide, 15 + On fair Kirconnell Lee; + + I lighted down my sword to draw, + I hacked him in pieces sma', + I hacked him in pieces sma', + For her sake that died for me. 20 + + O Helen fair, beyond compare! + I'll make a garland of thy hair, + Shall bind my heart for evermair, + Until the day I die. + + O that I were where Helen lies! 25 + Night and day on me she cries; + Out of my bed she bids me rise, + Says, "Haste and come to me!"-- + + O Helen fair! O Helen chaste! + If I were with thee, I were blest, 30 + Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest, + On fair Kirconnell Lee. + + I wish my grave were growing green, + A winding-sheet drawn ower my een, + And I in Helen's arms lying, 35 + On fair Kirconnell Lee. + + I wish I were where Helen lies! + Night and day on me she cries; + And I am weary of the skies, + For her sake that died for me. 40 + + + + +THE LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND. + + +Mr. Stenhouse was informed that this ballad was composed, about the +beginning of the last century, by a young widow in Galloway, whose +husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland. (_Musical Museum_, ed. +1853, iv. 115.) But some of the verses appear to be old, and one +stanza will be remarked to be of common occurrence in ballad poetry. + +A fragment of this piece was published in Herd's collection, (ii. +49.) Our copy is from Johnson's _Museum_, p. 118, with the omission, +however, of one spurious and absurd stanza, while another, not +printed by Johnson, is supplied from the note above cited to the new +edition. Cunningham makes sense of the interpolated verses and +retains them; otherwise his version is nearly the same as the +present. (_Songs of Scotland_, ii. 181.) + + "The love that I have chosen, + I'll therewith be content, + The saut sea shall be frozen + Before that I repent; + Repent it shall I never, 5 + Until the day I die, + But the lowlands of Holland + Hae twinn'd my love and me. + + "My love lies in the saut sea, + And I am on the side, 10 + Enough to break a young thing's heart, + Wha lately was a bride; + Wha lately was a bonnie bride, + And pleasure in her e'e, + But the lowlands of Holland 15 + Hae twinn'd my love and me. + + "My love he built a bonnie ship, + And set her to the sea, + Wi' seven score brave mariners + To bear her companie; 20 + Threescore gaed to the bottom, + And threescore died at sea, + And the lowlands of Holland + Hae twinn'd my love and me. + + "My love has built another ship 25 + And set her to the main; + He had but twenty mariners, + And all to bring her hame; + The stormy winds did roar again, + The raging waves did rout, 30 + And my love and his bonnie ship + Turn'd widdershins about. + + "There shall nae mantle cross my back,[L33] + Nor kame gae in my hair, + Neither shall coal nor candle light 35 + Shine in my bower mair; + Nor shall I chuse anither love, + Until the day I die, + Since the lowlands of Holland + Hae twinn'd my love and me." 40 + + "O haud your tongue, my daughter dear, + Be still, and be content; + There are mair lads in Galloway, + Ye need nae sair lament." + "O there is nane in Galloway,[L45] 45 + There's nane at a' for me; + For I never loved a lad but ane, + And he's drowned in the sea." + +33-36, 45-48. With the conclusion of this piece may be compared a +passage from _Bonny Bee-Ho'm_, vol. iii. p. 57. + + "Ohon, alas! what shall I do, + Tormented night and day! + I never loved a love but ane, + And now he's gone away. + + "But I will do for my true love + What ladies would think sair; + For seven years shall come and gae, + Ere a kaime gae in my hair. + + "There shall neither a shoe gae on my foot, + Nor a kaime gae in my hair, + Nor ever a coal or candle light + Shine in my bower nae mair." + +See also _The Weary Coble o' Cargill_. + + + + +BOOK III. + + + + +THE TWA BROTHERS. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 59. + + +The ballad of the _Twa Brothers_, like many of the domestic tragedies +with which it is grouped in this volume, is by no means the peculiar +property of the island of Great Britain. It finds an exact counterpart +in the Swedish ballad _Sven i Roseng[oa]rd_, _Svenska F. V._, No. 67, +Arwidsson, No. 87, A, B, which, together with a Finnish version of the +same story, thought to be derived from the Swedish, will be found +translated in our Appendix. _Edward_, in Percy's _Reliques_, has the +same general theme, with the difference that a father is murdered +instead of a brother. Motherwell[C] has printed a ballad (_Son Davie_) +closely agreeing with _Edward_, except that the crime is again +fratricide. He has also furnished another version of _The Twa Brothers_, +in which the catastrophe is the consequence of an accident, and this +circumstance has led the excellent editor to tax Jamieson with altering +one of the most essential features of the ballad, by filling out a +defective stanza with four lines that make one brother to have slain the +other in a quarrel. Jamieson is, however, justified in giving this more +melancholy character to the story, by the tenor of all the kindred +pieces, and by the language of his own. It will be observed that both in +_Edward_ and _Son Davie_, the wicked act was not only deliberate, but +was even instigated by the mother. The departure from the original is +undoubtedly on the part of Motherwell's copy, which has softened down a +shocking incident to accommodate a modern and refined sentiment. But +Jamieson is artistically, as well as critically right, since the effect +of the contrast of the remorse of one party and the generosity of the +other is heightened by representing the terrible event as the result of +ungoverned passion. + + [C] The stanza mentioned by Motherwell, as occurring in Werner's + _Twenty Fourth of February_, (Scene i.) is apparently only a + quotation from memory of Herder's translation of _Edward_. When + Motherwell became aware that a similar tradition was common to the + Northern nations of Europe, he could no longer have thought it + possible that an occurrence in the family history of the Somervilles + gave rise to _The Twa Brothers_. + +The three Scottish ballads mentioned above, here follow, and +Motherwell's _Twa Brothers_ will be found in the Appendix. Mr. +Sharpe has inserted a third copy of this in his _Ballad Book_, p. +56. Another is said to be in _The Scot's Magazine_, for June, 1822. +Placing no confidence in any of Allan Cunningham's _souvenirs_ of +Scottish Song, we simply state that one of them, composed upon the +theme of the _Twa Brothers_, is included in the _Songs of Scotland_, +ii. 16. + +"The common title of this ballad is, _The Twa Brothers_, or, _The +Wood o' Warslin_, but the words _o' Warslin_ appearing to the +editor, as will be seen in the text, to be a mistake for +_a-wrestling_, he took the liberty of altering it accordingly. After +all, perhaps, the title may be right; and the wood may afterwards +have obtained its denomination from the tragical event here +celebrated. A very few lines inserted by the editor to fill up +chasms, [some of which have been omitted,] are inclosed in brackets; +the text, in other respects, is given genuine, as it was taken down +from the recitation of Mrs. Arrott." JAMIESON. + + "O will ye gae to the school, brother? + Or will ye gae to the ba'? + Or will ye gae to the wood a-warslin, + To see whilk o's maun fa'?" + + "It's I winna gae to the school, brother; 5 + Nor will I gae to the ba'? + But I will gae to the wood a-warslin; + And it is you maun fa'." + + They warstled up, they warstled down, + The lee-lang simmer's day; 10 + [And nane was near to part the strife, + That raise atween them tway, + Till out and Willie's drawn his sword, + And did his brother slay.] + + "O lift me up upon your back; 15 + Tak me to yon wall fair; + You'll wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, + And syne they'll bleed nae mair. + + "And ye'll tak aff my Hollin sark, + And riv't frae gair to gair; 20 + Ye'll stap it in my bluidy wounds, + And syne they'll bleed nae mair." + + He's liftit his brother upon his back; + Ta'en him to yon wall fair; + He's washed his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, 25 + But ay they bled mair and mair. + + And he's ta'en aff his Hollin sark, + And riven't frae gair to gair; + He's stappit it in his bluidy wounds; + But ay they bled mair and mair. 30 + + "Ye'll lift me up upon your back, + Tak me to Kirkland fair;[L32] + Ye'll mak my greaf baith braid and lang, + And lay my body there. + + "Ye'll lay my arrows at my head, 35 + My bent bow at my feet; + My sword and buckler at my side, + As I was wont to sleep. + + "Whan ye gae hame to your father, + He'll speer for his son John:-- 40 + Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair, + Learning the school alone. + + "When ye gae hame to my sister, + She'll speer for her brother John:-- + Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, 45 + The green grass growin aboon. + + "Whan ye gae hame to my true love, + She'll speer for her lord John:-- + Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair, + But hame ye fear he'll never come."-- 50 + + He's gane hame to his father; + He speered for his son John: + "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, + Learning the school alone." + + And whan he gaed hame to his sister, 55 + She speered for her brother John:-- + "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, + The green grass growin aboon." + + And whan he gaed hame to his true love, + She speer'd for her lord John: 60 + "It's I left him into Kirkland fair, + And hame I fear he'll never come." + + "But whaten bluid's that on your sword, Willie? + Sweet Willie, tell to me." + "O it is the bluid o' my grey hounds; 65 + They wadna rin for me." + + "It's nae the bluid o' your hounds, Willie; + Their bluid was never so red; + But it is the bluid o' my true love, + That ye hae slain indeed." 70 + + That fair may wept, that fair may mourn'd, + That fair may mourn'd and pin'd; + "When every lady looks for her love, + I ne'er need look for mine." + + "O whaten a death will ye die, Willie? 75 + Now, Willie, tell to me." + "Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat, + And I'll gae sail the sea." + + "Whan will ye come hame again, Willie? + Now, Willie, tell to me." 80 + "Whan the sun and moon dances on the green, + And that will never be." + +32. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, was built of +old by the abbot of Holyrood-house, for his accommodation when he +came to that country, and was formerly the minister's manse." _Stat. +Ac. of Scotland_, vol. xiii. p. 506. J. + + + + +EDWARD, EDWARD. + + + "This curious Song was transmitted to the Editor by Sir David + Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes." + PERCY, _Reliques_, i. 61. + + "Quhy dois zour brand sae drop w' bluid, + Edward, Edward? + Quhy dois zour brand sae drop wi' bluid, + And quhy sae sad gang zee O?" + "O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 5 + Mither, mither: + O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, + And I had nae mair bot hee O." + + "Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, + Edward, Edward: 10 + Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, + My deir son I tell thee O." + "O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, + Mither, mither: + O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, 15 + That erst was sae fair and free O." + + "Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, + Edward, Edward: + Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair, + Sum other dule ze drie O." 20 + "O I hae killed my fadir deir, + Mither, mither: + O I hae killed my fadir deir, + Alas! and wae is mee O!" + + "And quhatten penance wul ze drie, for that, 25 + Edward, Edward? + And quhatten penance will ze drie for that? + My deir son, now tell me O." + "Ile set my feit in zonder boat, + Mither, mither: 30 + Ile set my feit in zonder boat, + And Ile fare ovir the sea O." + + "And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', + Edward, Edward? + And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha', 35 + That were sae fair to see O?" + "Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', + Mither, mither: + Ile let thame stand til they doun fa', + For here nevir mair maun I bee O." 40 + + "And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, + Edward, Edward? + And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife, + Quhan ze gang ovir the sea O?" + "The warldis room, late them beg throw life, 45 + Mither, mither: + The warldis room, late them beg throw life, + For thame nevir mair wul I see O." + + "And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir, + Edward, Edward? 50 + And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir? + My deir son, now tell me O." + "The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, + Mither, mither: + The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, 55 + Sic counseils ze gave to me O." + + + + +SON DAVIE, SON DAVIE. + + +From the recitation of an old woman. Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, 339. + + "What bluid's that on thy coat lap? + Son Davie! son Davie! + What bluid's that on thy coat lap? + And the truth come tell to me O." + + "It is the bluid of my great hawk, 5 + Mother lady! mother lady! + It is the bluid of my great hawk, + And the truth I hae tald to thee O." + + "Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, + Son Davie! son Davie! 10 + Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red, + And the truth come tell to me O." + + "It is the bluid o' my grey hound, + Mother lady! mother lady! + It is the bluid of my grey hound, 15 + And it wudna rin for me O." + + "Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, + Son Davie! son Davie! + Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red, + And the truth come tell to me O." 20 + + "It is the bluid o' my brother John, + Mother lady! mother lady! + It is the bluid o' my brother John, + And the truth I hae tald to thee O." + + "What about did the plea begin? 25 + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "It began about the cutting o' a willow wand, + That would never hae been a tree O." + + "What death dost thou desire to die? + Son Davie! son Davie! 30 + What death dost thou desire to die? + And the truth come tell to me O." + + "I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, + Mother lady! mother lady! + I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship, 35 + And ye'll never see mair o' me O." + + "What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife? + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "Grief and sorrow all her life, + And she'll never get mair frae me O." 40 + + "What wilt thou leave to thy auld son? + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "The weary warld to wander up and down, + And he'll never get mair o' me O." + + "What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear? 45 + Son Davie! son Davie!" + "A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer, + And she'll never get mair o' me O." + + + + +THE CRUEL SISTER. + + +The earliest printed copy of this ballad is the curious piece in +_Wit Restor'd_, (1658,) called _The Miller and the King's Daughter_, +improperly said to be a parody, by Jamieson and others. (See +Appendix.) Pinkerton inserted in his _Tragic Ballads_, (p. 72,) a +ballad on the subject, which preserves many genuine lines, but is +half his own composition. Complete versions were published by Scott +and Jamieson, and more recently a third has been furnished in +Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, p. 30, and a fourth in Buchan's _Ballads of +the North of Scotland_ (given at the end of this volume). The burden +of Mr. Sharpe's copy is nearly the same as that of the _Cruel +Mother_, _post_, p. 372. Jamieson's copy had also this burden, but +he exchanged it for the more popular, and certainly more tasteful, +_Binnorie_. No ballad furnishes a closer link than this between the +popular poetry of England and that of the other nations of Northern +Europe. The same story is found in Icelandic, Norse, Faroish, and +Estnish ballads, as well as in the Swedish and Danish, and a nearly +related one in many other ballads or tales, German, Polish, +Lithuanian, etc., etc.--See _Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 16, i. 81, +86, Arwidsson, ii. 139, and especially _Den Talende Strengeleg_, +Grundtvig, No. 95, and the notes to _Der Singende Knochen_, _K. u. +H. M[:a]rchen_, iii. 55, ed. 1856. + +Of the edition in the _Border Minstrelsy_, Scott gives the following +account, (iii. 287.) + +"It is compiled from a copy in Mrs. Brown's MSS., intermixed with a +beautiful fragment, of fourteen verses, transmitted to the Editor by +J. C. Walker, Esq. the ingenious historian of the Irish bards. Mr. +Walker, at the same time, favored the Editor with the following +note: 'I am indebted to my departed friend, Miss Brook, for the +foregoing pathetic fragment. Her account of it was as follows: This +song was trans-scribed, several years ago, from the memory of an old +woman, who had no recollection of the concluding verses; probably +the beginning may also be lost, as it seems to commence abruptly.' +The first verse and burden of the fragment ran thus:-- + + 'O sister, sister, reach thy hand! + _Hey ho, my Nanny, O_; + And you shall be heir of all my land, + _While the swan swims bonney, O_.'" + + + There were two sisters sat in a bour; + _B['i]nnorie, O B['i]nnorie_; + There came a knight to be their wooer; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest with glove and ring, 5 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + But he lo'ed the youngest abune a' thing; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest with broach and knife, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 10 + But he lo'ed the youngest abune his life; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The eldest she was vexed sair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And sore envied her sister fair; 15 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The eldest said to the youngest ane, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + "Will ye go and see our father's ships come in?" + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 20 + + She's ta'en her by the lily hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And led her down to the river strand; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The youngest stude upon a stane, 25 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + The eldest came and pushed her in; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + She took her by the middle sma', + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 30 + And dash'd her bonny back to the jaw; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "O sister, sister, reach your hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And ye shall be heir of half my land."-- 35 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "O sister, I'll not reach my hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And I'll be heir of all your land; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 40 + + "Shame fa' the hand that I should take, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + It's twin'd me and my world's make."-- + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "O sister, reach me but your glove, 45 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And sweet William shall be your love."-- + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove! + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 50 + And sweet William shall better be my love, + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_, + Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."-- 55 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + Until she cam to the miller's dam; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 60 + + "O father, father, draw your dam! + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + There's either a mermaid, or a milk-white swan." + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The miller hasted and drew his dam, 65 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And there he found a drown'd woman; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + You could not see her yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 70 + For gowd and pearls that were so rare; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + You could not see her middle sma', + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + Her gowden girdle was sae bra'; 75 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + A famous harper passing by, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + The sweet pale face he chanced to spy; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 80 + + And when he looked that lady on, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + He sigh'd and made a heavy moan; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He made a harp of her breast-bone, 85 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + The strings he framed of her yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 90 + Whose notes made sad the listening ear; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He brought it to her father's hall, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And there was the court assembled all; 95 + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + He laid his harp upon a stone, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And straight it began to play alone; + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. 100 + + "O yonder sits my father, the king, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And yonder sits my mother, the queen;" + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + "And yonder stands my brother Hugh, 105 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; + And by him my William, sweet and true." + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + But the last tune that the harp play'd then, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_; 110 + Was--"Woe to my sister, false Helen!" + _By the bonny milldams of Binnorie_. + + + + +THE TWA SISTERS. + + +_Verbatim_ (with one interpolated stanza) from the recitation of +Mrs. Brown. Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, i. 50. + + There was twa sisters liv'd in a bower, + _B['i]nnorie, O B['i]nnorie_! + There came a knight to be their wooer, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring, 5 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + But he loved the youngest aboon a' thing, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + He courted the eldest wi' broach and knife, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 10 + But he loved the youngest as his life, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The eldest she was vexed sair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And sair envied her sister fair, 15 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + Intill her bower she coudna rest, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Wi' grief and spite she maistly brast, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 20 + + Upon a morning fair and clear, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + She cried upon her sister dear, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O sister, come to yon sea strand, 25 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And see our father's ships come to land," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + She's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 30 + And led her down to yon sea strand, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The youngest stood upon a stane, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + The eldest came and threw her in, 35 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + She took her by the middle sma' + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And dashed her bonny back to the jaw, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 40 + + "O sister, sister, tak my hand, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And I'se mak ye heir to a' my land, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O sister, sister, tak my middle, 45 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And ye's get my goud and my gouden girdle, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O sister, sister, save my life, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 50 + And I swear I'se never be nae man's wife," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "Foul fa' the hand that I should tak, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + It twin'd me o' my warldes mak, 55 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "Your cherry cheeks and yellow hair + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Gars me gang maiden for evermair," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 60 + + Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Till she came to the mouth o' yon mill-dam, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + O out it came the miller's son, 65 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And saw the fair maid soummin in, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + "O father, father, draw your dam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 70 + There's either a mermaid or a swan," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + [The miller quickly drew the dam, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And there he found a drown'd woman, 75 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_.] + + "And sair and lang mat their teen last, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + That wrought thee sic a dowie cast," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_! 80 + + You coudna see her yellow hair + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + For goud and pearl that was sae rare, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + You coudna see her middle sma' 85 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + For gouden girdle that was sae braw, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + You coudna see her fingers white, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 90 + For gouden rings that were sae gryte, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + And by there came a harper fine, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + That harped to the king at dine, 95 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + Whan he did look that lady upon, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + He sigh'd and made a heavy moan, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. 100 + + He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + And wi' them strung his harp sae fair, + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The first tune it did play and sing, 105 + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Was, "Fareweel to my father the king," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The nexten tune that it play'd seen, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! 110 + Was, "Fareweel to my mither the queen," + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_. + + The thirden tune that it play'd then, + _Binnorie, O Binnorie_! + Was, "Wae to my sister, fair Ellen," 115 + _By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie_! + + + + +LORD DONALD. + +Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 110. + + +Like the two which preceded it, this ballad is common to the Gothic +nations. It exists in a great variety of forms. Two stanzas, +recovered by Burns, were printed in Johnson's _Museum_, i. 337; two +others were inserted by Jamieson, in his _Illustrations_, p. 319. +The _Border Minstrelsy_ furnished five stanzas, giving the _story_, +without the bequests. Allan Cunningham's alteration of Scott's +version, (_Scottish Songs_, i. 285,) has one stanza more. Kinloch +procured from the North of Scotland the following complete copy. + +In the Appendix, we have placed a nursery song on the same subject, +still familiar in Scotland, and translations of the corresponding +German and Swedish ballads--both most remarkable cases of +parallelism in popular romance. + +Lord Donald, as Kinloch remarks, would seem to have been poisoned by +eating toads prepared as fishes. Scott, in his introduction to _Lord +Randal_, has quoted from an old chronicle, a fabulous account of the +poisoning of King John by means of a cup of ale, in which the venom +of this reptile had been infused. + + "O whare hae ye been a' day, Lord Donald, my son? + O whare hae ye been a' day, my jollie young man?" + "I've been awa courtin':--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What wad ye hae for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? 5 + What wad ye hae for your supper, my jollie young man?" + "I've gotten my supper:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What did ye get for your supper, Lord Donald, my son? + What did ye get for your supper, my jollie young man?" 10 + "A dish of sma' fishes:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "Whare gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son? + Whare gat ye the fishes, my jollie young man?" + "In my father's black ditches:--mither, mak my bed sune, 15 + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son? + What like were your fishes, my jollie young man?" + "Black backs and spreckl'd bellies:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." 20 + + "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son! + O I fear ye are poison'd, my jollie young man!" + "O yes! I am poison'd:--mither mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald my son? 25 + What will ye leave to your father, my jollie young man?" + "Baith my houses and land:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son? + What will ye leave to your brither, my jollie young man?" 30 + "My horse and the saddle:--mither, mak my bed sune, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your sister, Lord Donald, my son? + What will ye leave to your sister, my jollie young man?" + "Baith my gold box and rings:--mither, mak my bed sune, 35 + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun." + + "What will ye leave to your true-love, Lord Donald, my son? + What will ye leave to your true-love, my jollie young man?" + "The tow and the halter, for to hang on yon tree, + And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me." 40 + + + + +LORD RANDAL (B). + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, (iii. 49.) + + +Scott changed the name of the hero of this piece from _Lord Ronald_ to +_Lord Randal_, on the authority of a single copy. The change is +unimportant, but the reason will appear curious, if we remember that the +Swedes and Germans have the ballad as well as the Scotch;--"because, +though the circumstances are so very different, I think it not +impossible, that the ballad may have originally regarded the death of +Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and +governor of Scotland." + + "O where hae ye been Lord Randal, my son? + O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?"-- + "I hae been to the wild wood; mother make my bed soon, + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? 5 + Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?" + "I dined wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon, + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? + What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"-- 10 + "I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon, + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? + What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"-- + "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, 15 + For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."-- + + "O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randal, my son! + O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!"-- + "O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon, + For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down." 20 + + + + +THE CRUEL BROTHER: + +OR, + +THE BRIDE'S TESTAMENT. + + +Of this ballad, which is still commonly recited and sung in +Scotland, four copies have been published. The following is from +Jamieson's collection, i. 66, where it was printed _verbatim_ after +the recitation of Mrs. Arrott. A copy from Aytoun's collection is +subjoined, which is nearly the same as a less perfect one in Herd, +i. 149, and the fourth, from Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, +&c., is in the Appendix to this volume. + +The conclusion, or testamentary part, occurs very frequently in ballads, +e. g. _Den lillas Testamente_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, No. 68, translated +in the Appendix to this volume, the end of _Den onde Svigermoder_, +_Danske Viser_, i. 261, translated in _Illustrations of Northern +Antiquities_, p. 344, _M[:o]en paa Baalet_, Grundtvig, No. 109, A, st. +18-21, and _Kong Valdemar og hans S[:o]ster_, Grundtvig, No. 126, A, st. +101-105. See also _Edward_, and _Lord Donald_, p. 225, p. 244. + + There was three ladies play'd at the ba', + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + There came a knight, and play'd o'er them a', + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The eldest was baith tall and fair, 5 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + But the youngest was beyond compare, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The midmost had a gracefu' mien, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 10 + But the youngest look'd like beauty's queen, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The knight bow'd low to a' the three, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + But to the youngest he bent his knee, 15 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + The lady turned her head aside, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + The knight he woo'd her to be his bride, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 20 + + The lady blush'd a rosy red, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And said, "Sir knight, I'm o'er young to wed," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "O lady fair, give me your hand, 25 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And I'll mak you ladie of a' my land," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "Sir knight, ere you my favor win, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 30 + Ye maun get consent frae a' my kin," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + He has got consent fra her parents dear, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And likewise frae her sisters fair, 35 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + He has got consent frae her kin each one, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + But forgot to speer at her brother John, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 40 + + Now, when the wedding day was come, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + The knight would take his bonny bride home, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + And many a lord and many a knight, 45 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + Came to behold that lady bright, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + And there was nae man that did her see, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, 50 + But wished himself bridegroom to be, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + Her father dear led her down the stair, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And her sisters twain they kiss'd her there, 55 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + Her mother dear led her through the close, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And her brother John set her on her horse, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 60 + + She lean'd her o'er the saddle-bow, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, + To give him a kiss ere she did go, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + He has ta'en a knife, baith lang and sharp, 65 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, + And stabb'd the bonny bride to the heart, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + She hadna ridden half thro' the town, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, 70 + Until her heart's blood stained her gown, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "Ride saftly on," said the best young man, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "For I think our bonny bride looks pale and wan," 75 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "O lead me gently up yon hill, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_, + And I'll there sit down, and make my will," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 80 + + "O what will you leave to your father dear?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "The silver-shod steed that brought me here," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "What will you leave to your mother dear?" 85 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "My velvet pall and silken gear," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "And what will ye leave to your sister Ann?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 90 + "My silken scarf, and my golden fan," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "What will ye leave to your sister Grace?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "My bloody cloaths to wash and dress," 95 + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + "What will ye leave to your brother John?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "The gallows-tree to hang him on," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. 100 + + "What will ye leave to your brother John's wife?" + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + "The wilderness to end her life," + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + This fair lady in her grave was laid, 105 + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; + And a mass was o'er her said, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + But it would have made your heart right sair, + _With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay_; 110 + To see the bridegroom rive his hair, + _As the primrose spreads so sweetly_. + + + + +THE CRUEL BROTHER. + + +From Aytoun's _Ballads of Scotland_ (2d ed.), i. 232, "taken down +from recitation." Found also, but with several stanzas wanting, in +Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 149. The title in both collections is +_Fine Flowers i' the Valley_. This part of the refrain is found in +one of the versions of the _Cruel Mother_, p. 269. To Herd's copy +are annexed two fragmentary stanzas with nearly the same burden as +that of the foregoing ballad. + + She louted down to gie a kiss, + _With a hey and a lily gay_; + He stuck his penknife in her hass, + _And the rose it smells so sweetly_. + + "Ride up, ride up," cry'd the foremost man, + _With a hey and a lily gay_; + "I think our bride looks pale and wan," + _And the rose it smells so sweetly_. + + + There were three sisters in a ha', + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + There came three lords amang them a', + _The red, green, and the yellow_. + + The first o' them was clad in red, 5 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "O lady, will ye be my bride?" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + The second o' them was clad in green, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 10 + "O lady, will ye be my queen?" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + The third o' them was clad in yellow, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "O lady, will ye be my marrow?" 15 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O ye maun ask my father dear," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + "Likewise the mother that did me bear," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 20 + + "And ye maun ask my sister Ann," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "And not forget my brother John," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O I have asked thy father dear," 25 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + "Likewise the mother that did thee bear," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "And I have asked your sister Ann," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 30 + "But I forgot your brother John;" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + Now when the wedding-day was come, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + The knight would take his bonny bride home, 35 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + And mony a lord, and mony a knight, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + Cam to behold that lady bright, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 40 + + There was nae man that did her see, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + But wished himsell bridegroom to be, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + Her father led her down the stair, 45 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + And her sisters twain they kissed her there, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + Her mother led her through the close, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 50 + Her brother John set her on her horse, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "You are high and I am low," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "Give me a kiss before you go," 55 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + She was louting down to kiss him sweet, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + When wi' his knife he wounded her deep, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 60 + + She hadna ridden through half the town, + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + Until her heart's blood stained her gown, + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "Ride saftly on," said the best young man, 65 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "I think our bride looks pale and wan!" + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O lead me over into yon stile," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, 70 + "That I may stop and breathe awhile," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O lead me over into yon stair," + _Fine flowers i' the valley_, + "For there I'll lie and bleed nae mair," 75 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "O what will you leave to your father dear?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "The siller-shod steed that brought me here," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. 80 + + "What will you leave to your mother dear?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "My velvet pall, and my pearlin' gear," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "What will you leave to your sister Ann?" 85 + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "My silken gown that stands its lane," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "What will you leave to your sister Grace?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; 90 + "My bluidy shirt to wash and dress," + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + "What will you leave to your brother John?" + _Fine flowers i' the valley_; + "The gates o' hell to let him in," 95 + _Wi' the red, green, and the yellow_. + + + + +LADY ANNE. + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 18. + + +"This ballad was communicated to me by Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe of +Hoddom, who mentions having copied it from an old magazine. Although +it has probably received some modern corrections, the general turn +seems to be ancient, and corresponds with that of a fragment which I +have often heard sung in my childhood." + +The version to which Sir Walter Scott refers, and part of which he +proceeds to quote, had been printed in Johnson's _Museum_. It is +placed immediately after the present, with other copies of the +ballad from Motherwell and Kinloch. + +In Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_ there are two more, +which are repeated with slight variations in the XVII. Vol. of the +Percy Society, p. 46, p. 50. Both will be found in the Appendix. The +copy in Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 90, seems to be taken from Scott. +Smith's _Scottish Minstrel_, iv. 33, affords still another variety. + +In German, _Die Kindesm[:o]rderin_, Erk's _Liederhort_, No. 41, five +copies; Erlach, iv. 148; Hoffmann, _Schlesische V. L._, No. 31, 32; +_Wunderhorn_, ii. 202; Zuccalmaglio, No. 97; Meinert, No. 81; +Simrock, p. 87. (But some of these are repetitions.) Wendish, Haupt +and Schmaler, I. No. 292, and with considerable differences, I. No. +290, II. 197. This last reference is taken from Grundtvig, ii. 531. + + Fair Lady Anne sate in her bower, + Down by the greenwood side, + And the flowers did spring, and the birds did sing, + 'Twas the pleasant May-day tide. + + But fair Lady Anne on Sir William call'd, 5 + With the tear grit in her ee, + "O though thou be fause, may Heaven thee guard, + In the wars ayont the sea!"-- + + Out of the wood came three bonnie boys, + Upon the simmer's morn, 10 + And they did sing and play at the ba', + As naked as they were born. + + "O seven lang years wad I sit here, + Amang the frost and snaw, + A' to hae but ane o' these bonnie boys, 15 + A playing at the ba'."-- + + Then up and spake the eldest boy, + "Now listen, thou fair ladie, + And ponder well the rede that I tell, + Then make ye a choice of the three. 20 + + "'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul, + And that ane, sae fair to see, + But a twelve-month sinsyne to paradise came, + To join with our companie."-- + + "O I will hae the snaw-white boy, 25 + The bonniest of the three."-- + "And if I were thine, and in thy propine, + O what wad ye do to me?"-- + + "'Tis I wad clead thee in silk and gowd, + And nourice thee on my knee."-- 30 + "O mither! mither! when I was thine, + Sic kindness I couldna see. + + "Beneath the turf, where now I stand, + The fause nurse buried me; + The cruel penknife sticks still in my heart, 35 + And I come not back to thee."-- + + * * * * * * * + + + + +FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY. + +From Johnson's _Musical Museum_, p. 331. + + +The first line of the burden is found also in _The Cruel Brother_, +p. 258. + + She sat down below a thorn, + _Fine flowers in the valley_; + And there she has her sweet babe born, + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + "Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie babe, 5 + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead," + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + She's taen out her little penknife, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, 10 + And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life, + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + And there she's buried her sweet babe in, 15 + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + As she was going to the church, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + She saw a sweet babe in the porch, + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. 20 + + "O sweet babe, and thou were mine, + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + I wad cleed thee in the silk so fine," + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + "O mother dear, when I was thine, 25 + _Fine flowers in the valley_, + Ye did na prove to me sae kind," + _And the green leaves they grow rarely_. + + + + +THE CRUEL MOTHER. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 161. + + + She leaned her back unto a thorn, + _Three, three, and three by three_; + And there she has her two babes born, + _Three, three, and thirty-three_. + + She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt, 5 + And there she bound them hand and foot. + + She has ta'en out her wee penknife, + And there she ended baith their life. + + She has howked a hole baith deep and wide, + She has put them in baith side by side. 10 + + She has covered them o'er wi' a marble stane, + Thinking she would gang maiden hame. + + As she was walking by her father's castle wa', + She saw twa pretty babes playing at the ba'. + + "O bonnie babes! gin ye were mine, 15 + I would dress you up in satin fine! + + "O I would dress you in the silk, + And wash you ay in morning milk!" + + "O cruel mother! we were thine, + And thou made us to wear the twine. 20 + + "O cursed mother! heaven's high, + And that's where thou will ne'er win nigh. + + "O cursed mother! hell is deep, + And there thou'll enter step by step." + + + + +THE CRUEL MOTHER. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 46. + + +Three stanzas of a Warwickshire version closely resembling Kinloch's +are given in _Notes and Queries_, vol. viii. p. 358. + + There lives a lady in London-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + She's gane wi' bairn to the clerk's son-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + She has tane her mantel her about-- 5 + _All alone, and alonie_; + She's gane aff to the gude greenwud-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + She has set her back until an aik-- + _All alone, and alonie_; 10 + First it bowed, and syne it brake-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + She has set her back until a brier-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + Bonnie were the twa boys she did bear-- 15 + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + But out she's tane a little penknife-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + And she's parted them and their sweet life-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. 20 + + She's aff unto her father's ha'-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + She seem'd the lealest maiden amang them a'-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + As she lookit our the castle wa'-- 25 + _All alone, and alonie_; + She spied twa bonnie boys playing at the ba'-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + "O an thae twa babes were mine"-- + _All alone, and alonie_; 30 + "They should wear the silk and the sabelline"-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + "O mother dear, when we were thine," + _All alone, and alonie_; + "We neither wore the silks nor the sabelline"-- 35 + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + "But out ye took a little penknife"-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + "An ye parted us and our sweet life"-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. 40 + + "But now we're in the heavens hie"-- + _All alone, and alonie_; + "And ye have the pains o' hell to dree"-- + _Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie_. + + + + +MAY COLVIN, OR FALSE SIR JOHN. + + +In the very ancient though corrupted ballads of _Lady Isabel and the +Elf-Knight_, and _The Water o' Wearie's Well_ (vol. i. p. 195, 198), +an Elf or a Merman occupies the place here assigned to False Sir +John. Perhaps _May Colvin_ is the result of the same modernizing +process by which _Hynde Etin_ has been converted into _Young +Hastings the Groom_ (vol. i. p. 294, 189). The coincidence of the +name with _Clerk Colvill_, in vol. i. p. 192, may have some +significance. This, however, would not be the opinion of Grundtvig, +who regards the Norse and German ballads resembling _Lady Isabel_, +&c., as compounded of two independent stories. If this be so, then +we should rather say that a ballad similar to _May Colvin_ has been +made to furnish the conclusion to the pieces referred to. + +The story of this ballad has apparently some connection with +_Bluebeard_, but it is hard to say what the connection is. (See +_Fitchers Vogel_ in the Grimms' _K. u. H.-M[:a]rchen_, No. 46, and +notes.) The versions of the ballad in other languages are all but +innumerable: e. g. _R[:o]fvaren Rymer_, _R[:o]fvaren Brun_, _Svenska +F.-V._, No. 82, 83; _Den Falske Riddaren_, Arwidsson, No. 44; +_Ulrich und Aennchen_, _Sch[:o]n Ulrich u. Roth-Aennchen_, _Sch[:o]n +Ulrich und Rautendelein_, _Ulinger_, _Herr Halewyn_, etc., in +_Wunderhorn_, i. 274; Uhland, 141-157 (four copies); Erk, +_Liederhort_, 91, 93; Erlach, iii. 450; Zuccalmaglio, _Deutsche +Volkslieder_, No. 15; Hoffmann, _Schlesische Volkslieder_, No. 12, +13, and _Niederl[:a]ndische Volkslieder_, No. 9, 10; etc. etc. A very +brief Italian ballad will be found in the Appendix, p. 391, which +seems to have the same theme. In some of the ballads the treacherous +seducer is an enchanter, who prevails upon the maid to go with him +by the power of a spell. + +_May Colvin_ was first published in Herd's Collection, vol. i. 153. +The copy here given is one obtained from recitation by Motherwell, +(_Minstrelsy_, p. 67,) collated by him with that of Herd. It is +defective at the end. The other versions in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, +p. 45, and Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 45, +though they are provided with some sort of conclusion, are not worth +reprinting. A modernized version, styled _The Outlandish Knight_, is +inserted in the Notes to _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient +Ballads_, Percy Society, vol. xvii. 101. + +Carlton Castle, on the coast of Carrick, is affirmed by the country +people, according to Mr. Chambers, to have been the residence of the +perfidious knight, and a precipice overhanging the sea, called +"Fause Sir John's Loup," is pointed out as the place where he was +wont to drown his wives. May Colvin is equally well ascertained to +have been "a daughter of the family of Kennedy of Colzean, now +represented by the Earl of Cassilis." Buchan's version assigns a +different locality to the transaction--that of "Binyan's Bay," +which, says the editor, is the old name of the mouth of the river +Ugie. + + False Sir John a wooing came + To a maid of beauty fair; + May Colvin was the lady's name, + Her father's only heir. + + He's courted her butt, and he's courted her ben, 5 + And he's courted her into the ha', + Till once he got this lady's consent + To mount and ride awa'. + + She's gane to her father's coffers, + Where all his money lay; 10 + And she's taken the red, and she's left the white, + And so lightly as she tripped away. + + She's gane down to her father's stable, + Where all his steeds did stand; + And she's taken the best, and she's left the warst, 15 + That was in her father's land. + + He rode on, and she rode on, + They rode a lang simmer's day, + Until they came to a broad river, + An arm of a lonesome sea. 20 + + "Loup off the steed," says false Sir John; + "Your bridal bed you see; + For it's seven king's daughters I have drowned here, + And the eighth I'll out make with thee. + + "Cast off, cast off your silks so fine, 25 + And lay them on a stone, + For they are o'er good and o'er costly + To rot in the salt sea foam. + + "Cast off, cast off your Holland smock, + And lay it on this stone, 30 + For it is too fine and o'er costly + To rot in the salt sea foam." + + "O turn you about, thou false Sir John, + And look to the leaf o' the tree; + For it never became a gentleman 35 + A naked woman to see." + + He's turn'd himself straight round about, + To look to the leaf o' the tree; + She's twined her arms about his waist, + And thrown him into the sea. 40 + + "O hold a grip of me, May Colvin, + For fear that I should drown; + I'll take you hame to your father's gates, + And safely I'll set you down." + + "O lie you there, thou false Sir John, 45 + O lie you there," said she; + "For you lie not in a caulder bed + Than the ane you intended for me." + + So she went on her father's steed, + As swift as she could flee, 50 + And she came hame to her father's gates + At the breaking of the day. + + Up then spake the pretty parrot: + "May Colvin, where have you been? + What has become of false Sir John, 55 + That wooed you so late yestreen?" + + Up then spake the pretty parrot, + In the bonnie cage where it lay: + "O what hae ye done with the false Sir John, + That he behind you does stay? 60 + + "He wooed you butt, he wooed you ben, + He wooed you into the ha', + Until he got your own consent + For to mount and gang awa'." + + "O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot, 65 + Lay not the blame upon me; + Your cage will be made of the beaten gold, + And the spakes of ivorie." + + Up then spake the king himself, + In the chamber where he lay: 70 + "O what ails the pretty parrot, + That prattles so long ere day?" + + "It was a cat cam to my cage door; + I thought 't would have worried me; + And I was calling on fair May Colvin 75 + To take the cat from me." + + + + +BABYLON, + +OR, + +THE BONNIE BANKS O' FORDIE. + + +"This ballad is given from two copies obtained from recitation, +which differ but little from each other. Indeed, the only variation +is in the verse where the outlawed brother unweetingly slays his +sister. One reading is,-- + + 'He's taken out his wee penknife, + _Hey how bonnie_; + And he's twined her o' her ain sweet life, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_.' + +The other reading is that adopted in the text. This ballad is +popular in the southern parishes of Perthshire: but where the scene +is laid the editor has been unable to ascertain. Nor has any +research of his enabled him to throw farther light on the history of +its hero with the fantastic name, than what the ballad itself +supplies." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 88. + +Another version is subjoined, from Kinloch's collection. + +This ballad is found in Danish; _Herr Truels's Doettre_, _Danske +Viser_, No. 164. In a note the editor endeavors to show that the +story is based on fact! + + There were three ladies lived in a bower, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And they went out to pull a flower, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + They hadna pu'ed a flower but ane, 5 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + When up started to them a banisht man, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's ta'en the first sister by her hand, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 10 + And he's turned her round and made her stand, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + Or will ye die by my wee penknife," 15 + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "It's I'll not be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 20 + + He's killed this may and he's laid her by, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + For to bear the red rose company, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's taken the second ane by the hand, 25 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And he's turned her round and made her stand, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "It's whether will ye be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 30 + Or will ye die by my wee penknife," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "I'll not be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + But I'll rather die by your wee penknife," 35 + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's killed this may and he's laid her by, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + For to bear the red rose company, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 40 + + He's taken the youngest ane by the hand, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And he's turned her round and made her stand, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + Says, "Will ye be a rank robber's wife, 45 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + Or will ye die by my wee penknife," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "I'll not be a rank robber's wife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 50 + Nor will I die by your wee penknife, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "For I hae a brother in this wood, + _Eh vow bonnie_, + And gin ye kill me, it's he'll kill thee," 55 + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + "What's thy brother's name? come tell to me," + _Eh vow bonnie_; + "My brother's name is Babylon," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. 60 + + "O sister, sister, what have I done, + _Eh vow bonnie_? + O have I done this ill to thee, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_? + + "O since I've done this evil deed, 65 + _Eh vow bonnie_, + Good sall never be seen o' me," + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + He's taken out his wee penknife, + _Eh vow bonnie_, 70 + And he's twyned himsel o' his ain sweet life, + _On the bonnie banks o' Fordie_. + + + + +DUKE OF PERTH'S THREE DAUGHTERS. + +From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 212. + + + The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, + Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; + And Elizabeth's to the greenwud gane, + To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. + + But she hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 5 + A double rose, but barely three, + Whan up and started a Loudon lord, + Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. + + "Will ye be called a robber's wife? + Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 10 + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, + I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 15 + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + Then out he's tane his little penknife, + And he's parted her and her sweet life, + And thrown her o'er a bank o' brume, + There never more for to be found. 20 + + The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, + Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; + And Margaret's to the greenwud gane, + To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. + + She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 25 + A double rose, but barely three, + When up and started a Loudon lord, + Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. + + "Will ye be called a robber's wife? + Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 30 + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, + I'll rather be sticket wi' your bloody knife, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 35 + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + Then out he's tane his little penknife, + And he's parted her and her sweet life, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free. 40 + + The Duke o' Perth had three daughters, + Elizabeth, Margaret, and fair Marie; + And Mary's to the greenwud gane, + To pu' the rose and the fair lilie. + + She hadna pu'd a rose, a rose, 45 + A double rose, but barely three, + When up and started a Loudon lord, + Wi' Loudon hose, and Loudon sheen. + + "O will ye be called a robber's wife? + Or will ye be stickit wi' my bloody knife? 50 + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + "Before I'll be called a robber's wife, + I'll rather be stickit wi' your bloody knife, + For pu'in the rose and the fair lilie, 55 + For pu'in them sae fair and free." + + But just as he took out his knife, + To tak frae her her ain sweet life, + Her brother John cam ryding bye, + And this bloody robber he did espy. 60 + + But when he saw his sister fair, + He kenn'd her by her yellow hair; + He call'd upon his pages three, + To find this robber speedilie. + + "My sisters twa that are dead and gane, 65 + For whom we made a heavy maene, + It's you that's twinn'd them o' their life, + And wi' your cruel bloody knife. + + Then for their life ye sair shall dree: + Ye sall be hangit on a tree, 70 + Or thrown into the poison'd lake, + To feed the toads and rattle-snake." + + + + +JELLON GRAME. + +From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 162. + + +"This ballad is published from tradition, with some conjectural +emendations. It is corrected by a copy in Mrs. Brown's MS., from +which it differs in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are +apparently modernized. + +"_Jellon_ seems to be the same name with _Jyllian_, or _Julian_. +'Jyl of Brentford's Testament' is mentioned in Warton's _History of +Poetry_, vol. ii. p. 40. The name repeatedly occurs in old ballads, +sometimes as that of a man, at other times as that of a woman. Of +the former is an instance in the ballad of _The Knight and the +Shepherd's Daughter_. [See this collection, vol. iii. p. 253.] + + 'Some do call me Jack, sweetheart, + And some do call me _Jille_.' + +"Witton Gilbert, a village four miles west of Durham, is, throughout +the bishopric, pronounced Witton Jilbert. We have also the common +name of Giles, always in Scotland pronounced Jill. For Gille, or +Juliana, as a female name, we have _Fair Gillian_ of Croyden, and a +thousand authorities. Such being the case, the Editor must enter his +protest against the conversion of _Gil_ Morrice into _Child_ +Maurice, an epithet of chivalry. All the circumstances in that +ballad argue, that the unfortunate hero was an obscure and very +young man, who had never received the honour of knighthood. At any +rate there can be no reason, even were internal evidence totally +wanting, for altering a well-known proper name, which, till of late +years, has been the uniform title of the ballad." SCOTT. + +_May-a-Row_, in Buchan's larger collection, ii. 231, is another, but +an inferior, version of this ballad. + + O Jellon Grame sat in Silverwood,[L1] + He sharp'd his broadsword lang; + And he has call'd his little foot-page + An errand for to gang. + + "Win up, my bonny boy," he says, 5 + "As quickly as ye may; + For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower + Before the break of day."-- + + The boy has buckled his belt about, + And through the green-wood ran; 10 + And he came to the ladye's bower + Before the day did dawn. + + "O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower? + The red sun's on the rain: + Ye're bidden come to Silverwood, 15 + But I doubt ye'll never win hame."-- + + She hadna ridden a mile, a mile, + A mile but barely three, + Ere she came to a new-made grave, + Beneath a green aik tree. 20 + + O then up started Jellon Grame, + Out of a bush thereby; + "Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower, + For it's here that ye maun lye."-- + + She lighted aff her milk-white steed, 25 + And kneel'd upon her knee; + "O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame, + For I'm no prepared to die! + + "Your bairn, that stirs between my sides, + Maun shortly see the light: 30 + But to see it weltering in my blood, + Would be a piteous sight."-- + + "O should I spare your life," he says, + "Until that bairn were born, + Full weel I ken your auld father 35 + Would hang me on the morn."-- + + "O spare my life, now, Jellon Grame! + My father ye needna dread: + I'll keep my babe in gude green-wood, + Or wi' it I'll beg my bread."-- 40 + + He took no pity on Lillie Flower, + Though she for life did pray; + But pierced her through the fair body + As at his feet she lay. + + He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower, 45 + Where she was lying dead; + But he felt some for the bonny bairn, + That lay weltering in her bluid. + + Up has he ta'en that bonny boy, + Given him to nurses nine; 50 + Three to sleep, and three to wake, + And three to go between. + + And he bred up that bonny boy, + Call'd him his sister's son; + And he thought no eye could ever see 55 + The deed that he had done. + + O so it fell upon a day, + When hunting they might be, + They rested them in Silverwood, + Beneath that green aik tree. 60 + + And many were the green-wood flowers + Upon the grave that grew, + And marvell'd much that bonny boy + To see their lovely hue. + + "What's paler than the prymrose wan? 65 + What's redder than the rose? + What's fairer than the lilye flower + On this wee know that grows?"-- + + O out and answer'd Jellon Grame, + And he spak hastilie-- 70 + "Your mother was a fairer flower, + And lies beneath this tree. + + "More pale she was, when she sought my grace, + Than prymrose pale and wan; + And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood, 75 + That down my broadsword ran."-- + + Wi' that the boy has bent his bow, + It was baith stout and lang; + An thro' and thro' him, Jellon Grame, + He gar'd an arrow gang. 80 + + Says,--"Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame! + My malisoun gang you wi'! + The place that my mother lies buried in + Is far too good for thee." + +1. Silverwood, mentioned in this ballad, occurs in a medley MS. +song, which seems to have been copied from the first edition of the +Aberdeen Cantus, _penes_ John G. Dalyell, Esq. advocate. One line +only is cited, apparently the beginning of some song:-- + + "Silverwood, gin ye were mine." SCOTT. + + + + +YOUNG JOHNSTONE. + + +A fragment of this fine ballad (which is commonly called _The Cruel +Knight_) was published by Herd, (i. 222,) and also by Pinkerton, +(_Select Scottish Ballads_, i. 69,) with variations. Finlay +constructed a nearly complete edition from two recited copies, but +suppressed some lines. (_Scottish Ballads_, ii. 72.) The present +copy is one which Motherwell obtained from recitation, with a few +verbal emendations by that editor from Finlay's. + +With respect to the sudden and strange catastrophe, Motherwell +remarks:-- + +"The reciters of old ballads frequently supply the best commentaries +upon them, when any obscurity or want of connection appears in the +poetical narrative. This ballad, as it stands, throws no light on +young Johnstone's motive for stabbing his lady; but the person from +whose lips it was taken down alleged that the barbarous act was +committed unwittingly, through young Johnstone's suddenly waking +from sleep, and, in that moment of confusion and alarm, unhappily +mistaking his mistress for one of his pursuers. It is not improbable +but the ballad may have had, at one time, a stanza to the above +effect, the substance of which is still remembered, though the words +in which it was couched have been forgotten." _Minstrelsy_, p. 193. + +Buchan's version, (_Lord John's Murder_, ii. 20,) it will be seen, +supplies this deficiency. + + Young Johnstone and the young Col'nel + Sat drinking at the wine: + "O gin ye wad marry my sister, + It's I wad marry thine." + + "I wadna marry your sister, 5 + For a' your houses and land; + But I'll keep her for my leman, + When I come o'er the strand. + + "I wadna marry your sister, + For a' your gowd so gay; 10 + But I'll keep her for my leman, + When I come by the way." + + Young Johnstone had a nut-brown sword, + Hung low down by his gair, + And he ritted[L15] it through the young Col'nel, 15 + That word he ne'er spak mair. + + But he's awa' to his sister's bower, + He's tirled at the pin: + "Whare hae ye been, my dear brither, + Sae late a coming in?" 20 + "I hae been at the school, sister, + Learning young clerks to sing." + + "I've dreamed a dreary dream this night, + I wish it may be for good; + They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, 25 + And the young Col'nel was dead." + + "Hawks and hounds they may seek me, + As I trow well they be; + For I have killed the young Col'nel, + And thy own true love was he." 30 + + "If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, + O dule and wae is me; + But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows, + And hae nae power to flee." + + And he's awa' to his true love's bower, 35 + He's tirled at the pin: + "Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone, + Sae late a coming in?" + "It's I hae been at the school," he says, + "Learning young clerks to sing." 40 + + "I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says, + "I wish it may be for good; + They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, + And the young Col'nel was dead." + + "Hawks and hounds they may seek me, 45 + As I trow well they be; + For I hae killed the young Col'nel, + And thy ae brother was he." + + "If ye hae killed the young Col'nel, + O dule and wae is me; 50 + But I care the less for the young Col'nel, + If thy ain body be free. + + "Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone, + Come in and take a sleep; + And I will go to my casement, 55 + And carefully I will thee keep." + + He had not weel been in her bower door, + No not for half an hour, + When four-and-twenty belted knights + Came riding to the bower. 60 + + "Well may you sit and see, Lady, + Well may you sit and say; + Did you not see a bloody squire + Come riding by this way?" + + "What colour were his hawks?" she says, 65 + "What colour were his hounds? + What colour was the gallant steed + That bore him from the bounds?" + + "Bloody, bloody were his hawks, + And bloody were his hounds; 70 + But milk-white was the gallant steed + That bore him from the bounds." + + "Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks, + And bloody were his hounds; + And milk-white was the gallant steed 75 + That bore him from the bounds. + + "Light down, light down now, gentlemen, + And take some bread and wine; + And the steed be swift that he rides on, + He's past the brig o' Lyne." 80 + + "We thank you for your bread, fair Lady, + We thank you for your wine; + But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound, + That bloody knight was ta'en." + + "Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone, 85 + Lie still and take a sleep; + For thy enemies are past and gone, + And carefully I will thee keep." + + But young Johnstone had a little wee sword, + Hung low down by his gair, 90 + And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast, + A deep wound and a sair. + + "What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone? + What aileth thee at me? + Hast thou not got my father's gold, 95 + Bot and my mither's fee?"[L96] + + "Now live, now live, my dear Ladye, + Now live but half an hour, + And there's no a leech in a' Scotland + But shall be in thy bower." 100 + + "How can I live, how shall I live? + Young Johnstone, do not you see + The red, red drops o' my bonny heart's blood + Rin trinkling down my knee? + + "But take thy harp into thy hand, 105 + And harp out owre yon plain, + And ne'er think mair on thy true love + Than if she had never been." + + He hadna weel been out o' the stable, + And on his saddle set, 110 + Till four-and-twenty broad arrows + Were thrilling in his heart. + +15. In the copy obtained by the Editor, the word "ritted" did not +occur, instead of which the word "stabbed" was used. The "nut-brown +sword" was also changed into "a little small sword." MOTHERWELL. + +96. Buchan's version furnishes the necessary explanation of Young +Johnstone's apparent cruelty:-- + + "Ohon, alas, my lady gay, + To come sae hastili['e]! + I thought it was my deadly foe, + Ye had trysted in to me." + + + + +YOUNG BENJIE. + + +From the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 10. _Bondsey and +Maisry_, another version of the same story, from Buchan's +collection, is given in the Appendix. + +"In this ballad the reader will find traces of a singular +superstition, not yet altogether discredited in the wilder parts of +Scotland. The lykewake, or watching a dead body, in itself a +melancholy office, is rendered, in the idea of the assistants, more +dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of superstition. In the +interval betwixt death and interment, the disembodied spirit is +supposed to hover round its mortal habitation, and, if invoked by +certain rites, retains the power of communicating, through its +organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such inquiries, however, are +always dangerous, and never to be resorted to, unless the deceased +is suspected to have suffered _foul play_, as it is called. It is +the more unsafe to tamper with this charm in an unauthorized manner, +because the inhabitants of the infernal regions are, at such +periods, peculiarly active. One of the most potent ceremonies in the +charm, for causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the door +ajar, or half open. On this account, the peasants of Scotland +sedulously avoid leaving the door ajar, while a corpse lies in the +house. The door must either be left wide open, or quite shut; but +the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise of +hospitality usual on such occasions. The attendants must be likewise +careful never to leave the corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is +left alone, to avoid, with a degree of superstitious horror, the +first sight of it. + +"The following story, which is frequently related by the peasants of +Scotland, will illustrate the imaginary danger of leaving the door +ajar. In former times, a man and his wife lived in a solitary +cottage, on one of the extensive Border fells. One day the husband +died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid of staying alone +by the corpse, or leaving the dead body by itself, repeatedly went +to the door, and looked anxiously over the lonely moor for the sight +of some person approaching. In her confusion and alarm she +accidentally left the door ajar, when the corpse suddenly started +up, and sat in the bed, frowning and grinning at her frightfully. +She sat alone, crying bitterly, unable to avoid the fascination of +the dead man's eye, and too much terrified to break the sullen +silence, till a Catholic priest, passing over the wild, entered the +cottage. He first set the door quite open, then put his little +finger in his mouth, and said the paternoster backwards; when the +horrid look of the corpse relaxed, it fell back on the bed, and +behaved itself as a dead man ought to do. + +"The ballad is given from tradition. I have been informed by a lady, +[Miss Joanna Baillie,] of the highest literary eminence, that she +has heard a ballad on the same subject, in which the scene was laid +upon the banks of the Clyde. The chorus was, + + "O Bothwell banks bloom bonny," + +and the watching of the dead corpse was said to have taken place in +Bothwell church." SCOTT. + + Of a' the maids o' fair Scotland, + The fairest was Marjorie; + And young Benjie was her ae true love, + And a dear true love was he. + + And wow but they were lovers dear, 5 + And loved fu' constantlie; + But aye the mair when they fell out, + The sairer was their plea. + + And they hae quarrell'd on a day, + Till Marjorie's heart grew wae; 10 + And she said she'd chuse another luve, + And let young Benjie gae. + + And he was stout, and proud-hearted, + And thought o't bitterlie; + And he's gane by the wan moonlight, 15 + To meet his Marjorie. + + "O open, open, my true love, + O open, and let me in!"-- + "I darena open, young Benjie, + My three brothers are within."-- 20 + + "Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd, + Sae loud's I hear ye lie; + As I came by the Lowden banks, + They bade gude e'en to me. + + "But fare ye weel, my ae fause love, 25 + That I have loved sae lang! + It sets ye chuse another love, + And let young Benjie gang."-- + + Then Marjorie turn'd her round about, + The tear blinding her ee,-- 30 + "I darena, darena let thee in, + But I'll come down to thee."-- + + Then saft she smiled, and said to him, + "O what ill hae I done?"-- + He took her in his armis twa, 35 + And threw her o'er the linn. + + The stream was strang, the maid was stout, + And laith, laith to be dang, + But, ere she wan the Lowden banks, + Her fair colour was wan. 40 + + Then up bespak her eldest brother, + "O see na ye what I see?"-- + And out then spak her second brother, + "It's our sister Marjorie!"-- + + Out then spak her eldest brother, 45 + "O how shall we her ken?"-- + And out then spak her youngest brother, + "There's a honey mark on her chin."-- + + Then they've ta'en up the comely corpse, + And laid it on the ground: 50 + "O wha has killed our ae sister, + And how can he be found? + + "The night it is her low lykewake, + The morn her burial day, + And we maun watch at mirk midnight, 55 + And hear what she will say."-- + + Wi' doors ajar, and candle light, + And torches burning clear, + The streikit corpse, till still midnight, + They waked, but naething hear. 60 + + About the middle o' the night, + The cocks began to craw; + And at the dead hour o' the night, + The corpse began to thraw. + + "O whae has done the wrang, sister, 65 + Or dared the deadly sin? + Whae was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout, + As thraw ye o'er the linn?" + + "Young Benjie was the first ae man + I laid my love upon; 70 + He was sae stout and proud-hearted, + He threw me o'er the linn."-- + + "Sall we young Benjie head, sister, + Sall we young Benjie hang, + Or sall we pike out his twa gray een, 75 + And punish him ere he gang?" + + "Ye maunna Benjie head, brothers, + Ye maunna Benjie hang, + But ye maun pike out his twa gray een, + And punish him ere he gang. 80 + + "Tie a green gravat round his neck, + And lead him out and in, + And the best ae servant about your house + To wait young Benjie on. + + "And aye, at every seven years' end, 85 + Ye'l tak him to the linn; + For that's the penance he maun dree, + To scug his deadly sin." + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + +LORD BARNABY. + +Scottish version of _Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard_. See p. 15. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 170. + + + "I have a tower in Dalisberry, + Which now is dearly dight, + And I will gie it to young Musgrave + To lodge wi' me a' night." + + "To lodge wi' thee a' night, fair lady, 5 + Wad breed baith sorrow and strife; + For I see by the rings on your fingers, + You're good lord Barnaby's wife." + + "Lord Barnaby's wife although I be, + Yet what is that to thee? 10 + For we'll beguile him for this ae night-- + He's on to fair Dundee. + + "Come here, come here, my little foot-page, + This gold I will give thee, + If ye will keep thir secrets close 15 + 'Tween young Musgrave and me. + + "But here I hae a little pen-knife, + Hings low down by my gare; + Gin ye winna keep thir secrets close, + Ye'll find it wonder sair." 20 + + Then she's ta'en him to her chamber, + And down in her arms lay he: + The boy coost aff his hose and shoon, + And ran to fair Dundee. + + When he cam to the wan water, 25 + He slack'd[L26] his bow and swam; + And when he cam to growin grass, + Set down his feet and ran. + + And when he cam to fair Dundee, + Wad neither chap nor ca'; 30 + But set his brent[L31] bow to his breast, + And merrily jump'd the wa'. + + "O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, + Waken, and come away!"-- + "What ails, what ails my wee foot-page, 35 + He cries sae lang ere day. + + "O is my bowers brent, my boy? + Or is my castle won? + Or has the lady that I lo'e best + Brought me a daughter or son?" 40 + + "Your ha's are safe, your bowers are safe, + And free frae all alarms; + But, oh! the lady that ye lo'e best + Lies sound in Musgrave's arms." + + "Gae saddle to me the black," he cried, 45 + "Gae saddle to me the gray; + Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed, + To hie me on my way." + + "O lady, I heard a wee horn toot, + And it blew wonder clear; 50 + And ay the turning o' the note, + Was, 'Barnaby will be here!' + + "I thought I heard a wee horn blaw, + And it blew loud and high; + And ay at ilka turn it said, 55 + 'Away, Musgrave, away!'" + + "Lie still, my dear; lie still, my dear; + Ye keep me frae the cold; + For it is but my father's shepherds + Driving their flocks to the fold." 60 + + Up they lookit, and down they lay, + And they're fa'en sound asleep; + Till up stood good lord Barnaby, + Just close at their bed feet. + + "How do you like my bed, Musgrave? 65 + And how like ye my sheets? + And how like ye my fair lady, + Lies in your arms and sleeps? + + "Weel like I your bed, my lord, + And weel like I your sheets; 70 + But ill like I your fair lady, + Lies in my arms and sleeps. + + "You got your wale o' se'en sisters, + And I got mine o' five; + Sae tak ye mine, and I's tak thine, 75 + And we nae mair sall strive." + + "O my woman's the best woman + That ever brak world's bread; + And your woman's the worst woman + That ever drew coat o'er head. 80 + + "I hae twa swords in ae scabbert, + They are baith sharp and clear; + Take ye the best, and I the warst, + And we'll end the matter here. + + "But up, and arm thee, young Musgrave, 85 + We'll try it han' to han'; + It's ne'er be said o' lord Barnaby, + He strack at a naked man." + + The first straik that young Musgrave got, + It was baith deep and sair; 90 + And down he fell at Barnaby's feet, + And word spak never mair. + + * * * * * * + + "A grave, a grave!" lord Barnaby cried, + "A grave to lay them in; + My lady shall lie on the sunny side, 95 + Because of her noble kin." + + But oh, how sorry was that good lord, + For a' his angry mood, + Whan he beheld his ain young son + All welt'ring in his blood! 100 + +26. For _slack'd_ read _bent_. J. + +[NOTE.] [In v. 31] the term "_braid_ bow" has been altered by the +editor into "_brent_ bow," i. e. _straight_, or _unbent_ bow. In +most of the old ballads, where a page is employed as the bearer of a +message, we are told, that, + + "When he came to wan water, + He _bent_ his bow and swam;" + +And + + "He set his _bent_ bow to his breast, + And lightly lap the wa'," &c. + +The application of the term _bent_, in the latter instance, does not +seem correct, and is probably substituted for _brent_. + +In the establishment of a feudal baron, every thing wore a military +aspect; he was a warrior by profession; every man attached to him, +particularly those employed about his person, was a soldier; and his +little foot-page was very appropriately equipped in the light +accoutrements of an archer. His bow, in the old ballad, seems as +inseparable from his character as the bow of Cupid or of Apollo, or +the caduceus of his celestial prototype Mercury. This bow, which he +carried unbent, he seems to have _bent_ when he had occasion to +swim, in order that he might the more easily carry it in his teeth, +to prevent the string from being injured by getting wet. At other +times he availed himself of its length and elasticity in the +_brent_, or straight state, and used it (as hunters do a leaping +pole) in vaulting over the wall of the outer court of a castle, when +his business would not admit of the tedious formality of blowing a +horn, or ringing a bell, and holding a long parley with the porter +at the gate, before he could gain admission. This, at least, appears +to the editor to be the meaning of these passages in the old +ballads. JAMIESON. + + + + +CHILDE MAURICE. See p. 30. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 8. + + + Childe Maurice hunted i' the silver[L1] wood, + He hunted it round about, + And noebody yt he found theren, + Nor noebody without. + + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + And tooke his silver combe in his hand 5 + To kembe his yellow lockes. + + He sayes, "come hither, thou litle footpage, + That runneth lowly by my knee; + Ffor thou shalt goe to John Steward's wiffe, + And pray her speake with mee. 10 + + "And as it ffalls out,[L11] many times + As knotts been knitt on a kell, + Or merchant men gone to leeve London, + Either to buy ware or sell, + + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + And grete thou doe that ladye well, 15 + Ever soe well ffroe mee. + + "And as it ffalls out, many times + As any harte can thinke, + As schoole masters are in any schoole house, + Writting with pen and inke, 20 + + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + Ffor if I might as well as shee may, + This night I wold with her speake. + + "And heere I send a mantle of greene, + As greene as any grasse, + And bid her come to the silver wood,[L25] 25 + To hunt with Child Maurice. + + "And there I send her a ring of gold, + A ring of precyous stone; + And bid her come to the silver wood, + Let for no kind of man." 30 + + One while this litle boy he yode, + Another while he ran; + Until he came to John Steward's hall, + Iwis he never blan. + + And of nurture the child had good; 35 + He ran up hall and bower ffree, + And when he came to this lady ffaire, + Sayes, "God you save and see. + + "I am come ffrom Childe Maurice, + A message unto thee, 40 + And Childe Maurice he greetes you well, + And ever soe well ffrom me. + + "And as it ffalls out, oftentimes + As knotts been knitt on a kell, + Or merchant men gone to leeve London 45 + Either to buy or sell; + + "And as oftentimes he greetes you well, + As any hart can thinke, + Or schoolemaster in any schoole, + Wryting with pen and inke. 50 + + "And heere he sends a mantle of greene, + As greene as any grasse, + And he bidds you come to the silver wood, + To hunt with child Maurice. + + "And heere he sends you a ring of gold, 55 + A ring of precyous stone; + He prayes you to come to the silver wood, + Let for no kind of man." + + "Now peace, now peace, thou litle fotpage, + Ffor Christes sake I pray thee; 60 + Ffor if my lord heare one of those words, + Thou must be hanged hye." + + John Steward stood under the castle wall, + And he wrote the words every one; + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + + And he called unto his horssekeeper, 65 + "Make ready you my steede;" + And soe he did to his chamberlaine, + "Make readye then my weed." + + And he cast a lease upon his backe, + And he rode to the silver wood, 70 + And there he sought all about, + About the silver wood. + + And there he found him Childe Maurice, + Sitting upon a blocke, + With a silver combe in his hand, 75 + Kembing his yellow locke. + + He sayes, "how now, how now, Childe Maurice, + Alacke how may this bee?" + But then stood by him Childe Maurice, + And sayd these words trulye: 80 + + "I do not know your ladye," he said, + "If that I doe her see." + "Ffor thou hast sent her love tokens, + More now than two or three. + + "For thou hast sent her a mantle of greene, 85 + As greene as any grasse, + And bade her come to the silver wood, + To hunt with Childe Maurice. + + "And by my faith now, Childe Maurice, + The tane of us shall dye;" 90 + "Now by my troth," sayd Childe Maurice, + "And that shall not be I." + + But he pulled out a bright browne sword, + And dryed it on the grasse, + And soe fast he smote at John Steward, 95 + Iwis he never rest. + + Then hee pulled forth his bright browne sword, + And dryed itt on his sleeve, + And the ffirst good stroke John Steward stroke, + Child Maurice head he did cleeve. 100 + + And he pricked it on his swords poynt, + Went singing there beside, + And he rode till he came to the ladye ffaire, + Whereas his ladye lyed. + + And sayes, "dost thou know Child Maurice head, 105 + Iff that thou dost it see? + And llap it soft, and kisse itt offt, + Ffor thou lovedst him better than mee." + + But when shee looked on Child Maurice head, + Shee never spake words but three: 110 + "I never beare noe child but one, + And you have slain him trulye." + + Sayes, "wicked be my merry men all, + I gave meate, drinke, and clothe; + But cold they not have holden me, 115 + When I was in all that wrath! + + "Ffor I have slaine one of the courteousest knights + That ever bestrode a steede; + Soe have I done one of the fairest ladyes + That ever ware womans weede." 120 + +1. MS. silven. See vv. 25, 53, 70, 72. + +11. out out. + +25. Sic in MS. + + + + +CLERK SAUNDERS. See p. 45. + +From Jamieson's _Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 83. + + +"The following copy was transmitted by Mrs. Arrott of Aberbrothick. +The stanzas, where the seven brothers are introduced, have been +enlarged from two fragments, which, although very defective in +themselves, furnished lines which, when incorporated with the text, +seemed to improve it. Stanzas 21 and 22, were written by the editor; +the idea of the _rose_ being suggested by the gentleman who recited, +but who could not recollect the language in which it was expressed." + +This copy of _Clerk Saunders_ bears traces of having been made up +from several sources. A portion of the concluding stanzas (v. +107-130) have a strong resemblance to the beginning and end of +_Proud Lady Margaret_ (vol. viii. 83, 278), which ballad is itself +in a corrupt condition. It may also be doubted whether the fragments +Jamieson speaks of did not belong to a ballad resembling _Lady +Maisry_, p. 78 of this volume. + +Accepting the ballad as it stands here, there is certainly likeness +enough in the first part to suggest a community of origin with the +Swedish ballad _Den Grymma Brodern_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, No. 86 +(translated in _Lit. and Rom. of Northern Europe_, p. 261). W. Grimm +mentions (_Altd[:a]n. Heldenl._, p. 519) a Spanish ballad, _De la Blanca +Ni[~n]a_, in the _Romancero de Amberes_, in which the similarity to _Den +Grymma Brodern_ is very striking. The series of questions (v. 30-62) +sometimes appears apart from the story, and with a comic turn, as in +_Det Hurtige Svar_, _Danske V._, No. 204, or _Thore och hans Syster_, +Arwidsson, i. 358. In this shape they closely resemble the familiar old +song, _Our gudeman came hame at e'en_, Herd, _Scottish Songs_, ii. 74. + + Clerk Saunders was an earl's son, + He liv'd upon sea-sand; + May Margaret was a king's daughter, + She liv'd in upper land. + + Clerk Saunders was an earl's son, 5 + Weel learned at the scheel; + May Margaret was a king's daughter; + They baith lo'ed ither weel. + + He's throw the dark, and throw the mark, + And throw the leaves o' green; 10 + Till he came to May Margaret's door, + And tirled at the pin. + + "O sleep ye, wake ye, May Margaret, + Or are ye the bower within?" + "O wha is that at my bower door, 15 + Sae weel my name does ken?" + "It's I, Clerk Saunders, your true love, + You'll open and lat me in. + + "O will ye to the cards, Margaret, + Or to the table to dine? 20 + Or to the bed, that's weel down spread, + And sleep when we get time." + + "I'll no go to the cards," she says, + "Nor to the table to dine; + But I'll go to a bed, that's weel down spread, 25 + And sleep when we get time." + + They were not weel lyen down, + And no weel fa'en asleep, + When up and stood May Margaret's brethren, + Just up at their bed feet. 30 + + "O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, + And dinna to us len, + O wha is aught yon noble steed, + That stands your stable in? + + "The steed is mine, and it may be thine, 35 + To ride whan ye ride in hie---- + + * * * * * * * + + "But awa', awa', my bald brethren, + Awa', and mak nae din; + For I am as sick a lady the nicht + As e'er lay a bower within." 40 + + "O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, + And dinna to us len, + O wha is aught yon noble hawk, + That stands your kitchen in?" + + "The hawk is mine, and it may be thine, 45 + To hawk whan ye hawk in hie---- + + * * * * * * * + + "But awa', awa', my bald brethren! + Awa', and mak nae din; + For I'm ane o' the sickest ladies this nicht + That e'er lay a bower within." 50 + + "O tell us, tell us, May Margaret, + And dinna to us len, + O wha is that, May Margaret, + You and the wa' between?" + + "O it is my bower-maiden," she says, 55 + "As sick as sick can be; + O it is my bower maiden," she says, + And she's thrice as sick as me." + + "We hae been east, and we've been west, + And low beneath the moon; 60 + But a' the bower-women e'er we saw + Hadna goud buckles in their shoon." + + Then up and spak her eldest brither, + Ay in ill time spak he: + "It is Clerk Saunders, your true love, 65 + And never mat I the, + But for this scorn that he has done, + This moment he sall die." + + But up and spak her youngest brother, + Ay in good time spak he: 70 + "O but they are a gudelie pair!-- + True lovers an ye be, + The sword that hangs at my sword belt + Sall never sinder ye!" + + Syne up and spak her nexten brother, 75 + And the tear stood in his ee: + "You've lo'ed her lang, and lo'ed her weel, + And pity it wad be, + The sword that hangs at my sword-belt + Shoud ever sinder ye!" 80 + + But up and spak her fifthen brother, + "Sleep on your sleep for me; + But we baith sall never sleep again, + For the tane o' us sall die!" + + [But up and spak her midmaist brother; 85 + And an angry laugh leugh he: + "The thorn that dabs, I'll cut it down, + Though fair the rose may be. + + "The flower that smell'd sae sweet yestreen + Has lost its bloom wi' thee; 90 + And though I'm wae it should be sae, + Clerk Saunders, ye maun die."] + + And up and spak her thirden brother, + Ay in ill time spak he: + "Curse on his love and comeliness!-- 95 + Dishonour'd as ye be, + The sword that hangs at my sword-belt + Sall quickly sinder ye!" + + Her eldest brother has drawn his sword; + Her second has drawn anither; 100 + Between Clerk Saunders' hause and collar bane + The cald iron met thegither. + + "O wae be to you, my fause brethren, + And an ill death mat ye die! + Ye mith slain Clerk Saunders in open field, 105 + And no in the bed wi' me." + + When seven years were come and gane, + Lady Margaret she thought lang; + And she is up to the hichest tower, + By the lee licht o' the moon. 110 + + She was lookin o'er her castle high, + To see what she might fa'; + And there she saw a grieved ghost + Comin waukin o'er the wa'.[L114] + + "O are ye a man of mean," she says, 115 + "Seekin ony o' my meat? + Or are you a rank robber, + Come in my bower to break?" + + "O I'm Clerk Saunders, your true love; + Behold, Margaret, and see, 120 + And mind, for a' your meikle pride, + Sae will become of thee." + + "Gin ye be Clerk Saunders, my true love, + This meikle marvels me: + O wherein is your bonny arms 125 + That wont to embrace me?" + + "By worms they're eaten, in mools they're rotten, + Behold, Margaret, and see; + And mind, for a' your mickle pride, + Sae will become o' thee!" 130 + + * * * * * * * + + O, bonny, bonny sang the bird, + Sat on the coil o' hay; + But dowie, dowie was the maid, + That follow'd the corpse o' clay. + + "Is there ony room at your head, Saunders, 135 + Is there ony room at your feet? + Is there ony room at your twa sides, + For a lady to lie and sleep?" + + "There is nae room at my head, Margaret, + As little at my feet; 140 + There is nae room at my twa sides, + For a lady to lie and sleep. + + "But gae hame, gae hame, now, May Margaret, + Gae hame and sew your seam; + For if ye were laid in your weel-made bed, 145 + Your days will nae be lang." + +114. The _wa'_ here is supposed to mean the wall, which, in some +old castles, surrounded the court. J. + + + + +LORD WA'YATES AND AULD INGRAM. + +A FRAGMENT. See p. 72. + +Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, ii. 265. + +"From Mr. Herd's MS., transmitted by Mr. Scott." + + + Lady Maisery was a lady fair, + She made her mother's bed; + Auld Ingram was an aged knight, + And her he sought to wed. + + "Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram, 5 + For to seek me to spouse; + For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, + Has been into my bowers. + + "Its I forbid ye, auld Ingram, + For to seek me to wed; 10 + For Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, + Has been into my bed." + + He has brocht to this ladie + The robis of the brown; + And ever, "Alas!" says this ladie, 15 + "Thae robes will put me down." + + And he has brocht to that ladie + The robis of the red; + And ever, "Alas!" says that ladie, + "Thae robes will be my dead." 20 + + And he has brocht to that ladie + The chrystal and the laumer; + Sae has he brocht to her mither + The curches o' the cannel. + + Every ane o' her seven brethren 25 + They had a hawk in hand, + And every lady in the place + They got a goud garland. + + Every cuik in that kitchen + They got a noble claith; 30 + A' was blyth at auld Ingram's coming, + But Lady Maisery was wraith. + + "Whare will I get a bonny boy, + Wad fain win hose and shoon, + That wad rin on to my Wa'yates, 35 + And quickly come again?" + + "Here am I, a bonny boy, + Wad fain win hose and shoon; + Wha will rin on to your Wa'yates, + And quickly come again." 40 + + "Ye'll bid him, and ye'll pray him baith, + Gin ony prayer may dee, + To Marykirk to come the morn, + My weary wadding to see." + + Lord Wa'yates lay o'er his castle wa', 45 + Beheld baith dale and down; + And he beheld a bonny boy + Come running to the town. + + "What news, what news, ye bonny boy? + What news hae ye to me? 50 + * * * * * * * + * * * * * * * + + "O are my ladie's fauldis brunt, + Or are her towers won? + Or is my Maisery lichter yet + O' a dear dochter or son?" + + "Your ladie's faulds are neither brunt, 55 + Nor are her towers won; + Nor is your Maisery lichter yet + O' a dear dochter or son: + + "But she bids you, and she prays you baith, + Gin ony prayer can dee, 60 + To Mary Kirk to come the morn, + Her weary wadding to see." + + He dang the buird up wi' his fit, + Sae did he wi' his knee; + The silver cup, that was upon't, 65 + I' the fire he gar'd it flee: + "O whatten a lord in a' Scotland + Dare marry my Maisery? + + "O it is but a feeble thocht, + To tell the tane and nae the tither; 70 + O it is but a feeble thocht + To tell it's your ain mither's brither." + + "Its I will send to that wadding, + And I will follow syne, + The fitches o' the fallow deer, 75 + And the gammons o' the swine; + And the nine hides o' the noble cow-- + 'Twas slain in season time. + + "Its I will send to that wadding + Ten tun o' the red wine; 80 + And mair I'll send to that waddin', + And I will follow syne." + + Whan he came in into the ha', + Lady Maisery she did ween; + And twenty times he kist her mou', 85 + Afore auld Ingram's een. + + And till the kirk she wadna gae, + Nor tillt she wadna ride, + Till four-and-twenty men she gat her before, + And twenty on ilka side, 90 + And four-and-twenty milk white dows, + To flee aboon her head. + + A loud lauchter gae Lord Wa'yates, + 'Mang the mids o' his men; + "Marry that lady wha that will, 95 + A maiden she is nane." + + "O leuch ye at my men, Wa'yates, + Or did ye lauch at me? + Or leuch ye at the bierdly bride, + That's gaun to marry me?" 100 + + "I leuchna at your men, uncle, + Nor yet leuch I at thee; + But I leuch at my lands so braid, + Sae weel's I do them see." + + When e'en was come, and e'en-bells rung, 105 + And a' man gane to bed, + The bride but and the silly bridegroom + In ae chamber were laid. + + Wasna't a fell thing for to see + Twa heads upon a cod; 110 + Lady Maisery's like the mo'ten goud, + Auld Ingram's like a toad. + + He turn'd his face unto the stock, + And sound he fell asleep; + She turn'd her face unto the wa', 115 + And saut tears she did weep. + + It fell about the mirk midnicht, + Auld Ingram began to turn him; + He put his hand on's ladie's side, + And waly, sair was she mournin'. 120 + + "What aileth thee, my lady dear? + Ever alas, and wae is me! + There is a babe betwixt thy sides,-- + Oh! sae sair's it grieves me!" + + "O didna I tell ye, auld Ingram, 125 + Ere ye socht me to wed, + That Lord Wa'yates, your sister's son, + Had been into my bed?" + + "Then father that bairn on me, Maisery, + O father that bairn on me; 130 + And ye sall hae a rigland shire + Your mornin' gift to be." + + "O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery, + "That ever the like me befa', + To father my bairn on auld Ingram, 135 + Lord Wa'yates in my father's ha'. + + "O sarbit!" says the Ladie Maisery, + "That ever the like betide, + To father my bairn on auld Ingram, + And Lord Wa'yates beside." 140 + + * * * * * * * + + + + +SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR MAISRY. See p. 79. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 97. + + + "Hey love Willie, and how love Willie, + And Willie my love shall be; + They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie; + It's mair than man can dee. + + "Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed, 5 + A milk-white steed or gray; + And carry me on to gude greenwood + Before that it be day." + + He mounted her upon a steed, + He chose a steed o' gray; 10 + He had her on to gude greenwood + Before that it was day. + + "O will ye gang to the cards, Meggie? + Or will ye gang wi' me? + Or will ye ha'e a bower woman, 15 + To stay ere it be day?" + + "I winna gang to the cards," she said, + "Nor will I gae wi' thee, + Nor will I hae a bower woman, + To spoil my modestie. 20 + + "Ye'll gie me a lady at my back, + An' a lady me beforn; + An' a midwife at my twa sides + Till your young son be born. + + "Ye'll do me up, and further up, 25 + To the top o' yon greenwood tree; + For every pain myself shall ha'e, + The same pain ye maun drie." + + The first pain that did strike sweet Willie, + It was into the side; 30 + Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, + "These pains are ill to bide." + + The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie, + It was into the back; + Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, 35 + "These pains are women's wreck." + + The nextan pain that strake sweet Willie, + It was into the head; + Then sighing sair said sweet Willie, + "I fear my lady's dead." 40 + + Then he's gane on, and further on, + At the foot o' yon greenwood tree; + There he got his lady lighter, + Wi' his young son on her knee. + + Then he's ta'en up his little young son, 45 + And kiss'd him cheek and chin; + And he is on to his mother, + As fast as he could gang. + + "Ye will take in my son, mother, + Gi'e him to nurses nine; 50 + Three to wauk, and three to sleep, + And three to gang between." + + Then he has left his mother's house, + And frae her he has gane; + And he is back to his lady, 55 + And safely brought her hame. + + Then in it came her father dear, + Was belted in a brand; + "It's nae time for brides to lye in bed, + When the bridegroom's send's in town. 60 + + "There are four-and-twenty noble lords + A' lighted on the green; + The fairest knight amang them a', + He must be your bridegroom." + + "O wha will shoe my foot, my foot? 65 + And wha will glove my hand? + And wha will prin my sma' middle, + Wi' the short prin and the lang?" + + Now out it speaks him, sweet Willie, + Who knew her troubles best; 70 + "It is my duty for to serve, + As I'm come here as guest. + + "Now I will shoe your foot, Maisry, + And I will glove your hand, + And I will prin your sma' middle, 75 + Wi' the sma' prin and the lang." + + "Wha will saddle my steed," she says, + "And gar my bridle ring? + And wha will ha'e me to gude church-door, + This day I'm ill abound?" 80 + + "I will saddle your steed, Maisry, + And gar your bridle ring; + And I'll hae you to gude church-door, + And safely set you down." + + "O healy, healy take me up, 85 + And healy set me down; + And set my back until a wa', + My foot to yird-fast stane." + + He healy took her frae her horse, + And healy set her down; 90 + And set her back until a wa', + Her foot to yird-fast stane. + + When they had eaten and well drunken, + And a' had thorn'd fine; + The bride's father he took the cup, 95 + For to serve out the wine. + + Out it speaks the bridegroom's brother, + An ill death mat he die! + "I fear our bride she's born a bairn, + Or else has it a dee." 100 + + She's ta'en out a Bible braid, + And deeply has she sworn; + "If I ha'e born a bairn," she says, + "Sin' yesterday at morn; + + "Or if I've born a bairn," she says, 105 + "Sin' yesterday at noon; + There's nae a lady amang you a' + That wou'd been here sae soon." + + Then out it spake the bridegroom's man, + Mischance come ower his heel! 110 + "Win up, win up, now bride," he says, + "And dance a shamefu' reel."[L112] + + Then out it speaks the bride hersell, + And a sorry heart had she; + "Is there nae ane amang you a' 115 + Will dance this dance for me?" + + Then out it speaks him, sweet Willie, + And he spake aye thro' pride; + "O draw my boots for me, bridegroom, + Or I dance for your bride." 120 + + Then out it spake the bride hersell, + "O na, this maunna be; + For I will dance this dance mysell, + Tho' my back shou'd gang in three." + + She hadna well gane thro' the reel, 125 + Nor yet well on the green, + Till she fell down at Willie's feet + As cauld as ony stane. + + He's ta'en her in his arms twa, + And ha'ed her up the stair; 130 + Then up it came her jolly bridegroom, + Says, "What's your business there?" + + Then Willie lifted up his foot, + And dang him down the stair; + And brake three ribs o' the bridegroom's side, 135 + And a word he spake nae mair. + + Nae meen was made for that lady, + When she was lying dead; + But a' was for him, sweet Willie, + On the fields for he ran mad. 140 + +112. The first reel, danced with the bride, her maiden, and two +young men, and called the Shame Spring, or Reel, as the bride +chooses the tune that is to be played. B. + + + + +LADY MARJORIE. See p. 92. + + +"Given from the recitation of an old woman in Kilbarchan, +Renfrewshire, from whom the Editor has obtained several valuable +pieces of a like nature. In singing, O is added at the end of the +second and fourth line of each stanza." Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, +p. 234. + + Lady Marjorie was her mother's only daughter, + Her father's only heir; + And she is awa to Strawberry Castle, + To get some unco lair. + + She had na been in Strawberry Castle 5 + A twelvemonth and a day, + Till Lady Marjorie she gangs big wi' child, + As big as she can gae. + + Word is to her father gane, + Before he got on his shoon, 10 + That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child, + And it is to an Irish groom. + + But word is to her mother gone, + Before she got on her goun, + That Lady Marjorie she gaes wi' child 15 + To a lord of high renown. + + "O wha will put on the pat," they said, + "Or wha will put on the pan, + Or wha will put on a bauld, bauld fire, + To burn Lady Marjorie in?" 20 + + Her father he put on the pat, + Her sister put on the pan, + And her brother he put on a bauld, bauld fire, + To burn Lady Marjorie in; + And her mother she sat in a golden chair, 25 + To see her daughter burn. + + "But where will I get a pretty little boy, + That will win hose and shoon; + That will go quickly to Strawberry Castle, + And bid my lord come doun?" 30 + + "O here am I, a pretty little boy, + That will win hose and shoon; + That will rin quickly to Strawberry Castle, + And bid thy lord come doun." + + O when he cam to broken brigs, 35 + He bent his bow and swam; + And when he cam to gude dry land, + He set doun his foot and ran. + + When he cam to Strawberry Castle, + He tirled at the pin; 40 + Nane was sae ready as the gay lord himsell + To open and let him in. + + "O is there any of my towers burnt, + Or any of my castles won? + Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed, 45 + Of a daughter or a son?" + + "O there is nane of thy towers burnt, + Nor nane of thy castles broken; + But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die, + To be burnt in a fire of oaken." 50 + + "O gar saddle to me the black," he says, + "Gar saddle to me the broun; + Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed + That e'er carried a man frae toun!" + + He left the black into the slap, 55 + The broun into the brae; + But fair fa' that bonnie apple-gray + That carried this gay lord away! + + "Beet on, beet on, my brother dear, + I value you not one straw; 60 + For yonder comes my ain true luve, + I hear his horn blaw. + + "Beet on, beet on, my father dear, + I value you not a pin; + For yonder comes my ain true luve, 65 + I hear his bridle ring." + + He took a little horn out of his pocket, + And he blew't baith loud and schill; + And wi' the little life that was in her, + She hearken'd to it full weel. 70 + + But when he came into the place, + He lap unto the wa'; + He thought to get a kiss o' her bonnie lips, + But her body fell in twa! + + "O vow! O vow! O vow!" he said, 75 + "O vow! but ye've been cruel: + Ye've taken the timber out of my ain wood, + And burnt my ain dear jewel! + + "Now for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, + I'll burn baith father and mother; 80 + And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, + I'll burn baith sister and brother. + + "And for thy sake, Lady Marjorie, + I'll burn baith kith and kin; + But I'll aye remember the pretty little boy 85 + That did thy errand rin." + + + + +LEESOME BRAND. + + +Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, i. 38. This is properly +a tragic story, as may be perceived by comparing the present +corrupted version (evidently made up from several different sources) +with the Danish and Swedish ballads. See _Herr Medelvold_, _Danske +Viser_, iii. 361, _Die wahrsagenden Nachtigallen_, in Grimm's +_Altd[:a]nische Heldenlieder_, p. 88, _Fair Midel and Kirsten Lyle_, +translated by Jamieson, _Illustrations_, p. 377; and _Herr Redevall_, +_Svenska Folkvisor_, ii. 189, _Krist' Lilla och Herr Tideman_, +Arwidsson, i. 352, _Sir Wal and Lisa Lyle_, translated by Jamieson, +p. 373. + + My boy was scarcely ten years auld, + Whan he went to an unco land, + Where wind never blew, nor cocks ever crew, + Ohon! for my son, Leesome Brand. + + Awa' to that king's court he went, 5 + It was to serve for meat an' fee; + Gude red gowd it was his hire, + And lang in that king's court stay'd he. + + He hadna been in that unco land, + But only twallmonths twa or three; 10 + Till by the glancing o' his ee, + He gain'd the love o' a gay ladye. + + This ladye was scarce eleven years auld, + When on her love she was right bauld; + She was scarce up to my right knee, 15 + When oft in bed wi' men I'm tauld. + + But when nine months were come and gane, + This ladye's face turn'd pale and wane; + To Leesome Brand she then did say, + "In this place I can nae mair stay. 20 + + "Ye do you to my father's stable, + Where steeds do stand baith wight and able; + Strike ane o' them upo' the back, + The swiftest will gie his head a wap. + + "Ye take him out upo' the green, 25 + And get him saddled and bridled seen; + Get ane for you, anither for me, + And lat us ride out ower the lee. + + "Ye do you to my mother's coffer, + And out of it ye'll take my tocher; 30 + Therein are sixty thousand pounds, + Which all to me by right belongs." + + He's done him to her father's stable, + Where steeds stood baith wicht and able; + Then he strake ane upon the back, 35 + The swiftest gae his head a wap. + + He's ta'en him out upo' the green, + And got him saddled and bridled seen; + Ane for him, and another for her, + To carry them baith wi' might and virr. 40 + + He's done him to her mother's coffer, + And there he's taen his lover's tocher; + Wherein were sixty thousand pounds, + Which all to her by right belong'd. + + When they had ridden about six mile, 45 + His true love then began to fail; + "O wae's me," said that gay ladye, + "I fear my back will gang in three! + + "O gin I had but a gude midwife,[L49] + Here this day to save my life, 50 + And ease me o' my misery, + O dear, how happy I wou'd be!" + + "My love, we're far frae ony town; + There is nae midwife to be foun'; + But if ye'll be content wi' me, 55 + I'll do for you what man can dee." + + "For no, for no, this maunna be," + Wi' a sigh, replied this gay ladye; + "When I endure my grief and pain, + My companie ye maun refrain. 60 + + "Ye'll take your arrow and your bow, + And ye will hunt the deer and roe; + Be sure ye touch not the white hynde, + For she is o' the woman kind." + + He took sic pleasure in deer and roe, 65 + Till he forgot his gay ladye; + Till by it came that milk-white hynde, + And then he mind on his ladye syne. + + He hasted him to yon greenwood tree, + For to relieve his gay ladye; 70 + But found his ladye lying dead, + Likeways her young son at her head. + + His mother lay ower her castle wa', + And she beheld baith dale and down; + And she beheld young Leesome Brand, 75 + As he came riding to the town. + + "Get minstrels for to play," she said, + "And dancers to dance in my room; + For here comes my son, Leesome Brand, + And he comes merrilie to the town." 80 + + "Seek nae minstrels to play, mother, + Nor dancers to dance in your room; + But tho' your son comes, Leesome Brand, + Yet he comes sorry to the town. + + "O I hae lost my gowden knife, 85 + I rather had lost my ain sweet life; + And I hae lost a better thing, + The gilded sheath that it was in." + + "Are there nae gowdsmiths here in Fife, + Can make to you anither knife? 90 + Are there nae sheath-makers in the land, + Can make a sheath to Leesome Brand?" + + "There are nae gowdsmiths here in Fife, + Can make me sic a gowden knife; + Nor nae sheath-makers in the land, 95 + Can make to me a sheath again. + + "There ne'er was man in Scotland born, + Ordain'd to be so much forlorn; + I've lost my ladye I lov'd sae dear, + Likeways the son she did me bear." 100 + + "Put in your hand at my bed head, + There ye'll find a gude grey horn; + In it three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude, + That hae been there sin' he was born. + + "Drap twa o' them o' your ladye, 105 + And ane upo' your little young son; + Then as lively they will be + As the first night ye brought them hame." + + He put his hand at her bed head, + And there he found a gude grey horn; 110 + Wi' three draps o' Saint Paul's ain blude, + That had been there sin' he was born. + + Then he drapp'd twa on his ladye, + And ane o' them on his young son; + And now they do as lively be, 115 + As the first day he brought them hame. + +NOTE to v. 49-72.--A similar passage is found at p. 94 of this +volume, v. 33-36, also vol. v. p. 178, v. 97-108, and p. 402, v. +169-176, and in the Scandinavian ballads cited in the preface to +this ballad. In these last the lady frees herself from the presence +of the knight by sending him to get her some water, and she is found +dead on his return. This incident, remarks Grimm, (_Altd[:a]nische +Heldenlieder_, p. 508), is also found in _Wolfdietrich_, Str. +1680-96. + + + + +THE YOUTH OF ROSENGORD. See p. 219. + +_Sven i Roseng[oa]rd_, _Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 3, and Arwidsson's +_Forns[oa]nger_, ii. 83: translated in _Literature and Romance of +Northern Europe_, i. 263. + + + "So long where hast thou tarried, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I have been into my stable, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 5 + + "What hast thou done in the stable, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I have watered the horses, + Our mother dear." + Long may ye look for me, or look for me never. 10 + + "Why is thy foot so bloody, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "The black horse has trampled me, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 15 + + "Why is thy sword so bloody, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I have murdered my brother, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 20 + + "Whither wilt thou betake thee, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "I shall flee my country, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 25 + + "What will become of thy wedded wife, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "She must spin for her living, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 30 + + "What will become of thy children small, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "They must beg from door to door, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 35 + + "When comest thou back again, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "When the swan is black as night, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 40 + + "And when will the swan be black as night, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "When the raven shall be white as snow, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 45 + + "And when will the raven be white as snow, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "When the grey rocks take to flight, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 50 + + "And when will fly the grey rocks, + Young man of Rosengord?" + "The rocks they will fly never, + Our mother dear." + Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 55 + + + + +THE BLOOD-STAINED SON.--See p. 219. + +A translation, nearly word for word, of _Der Blutige Sohn_, printed +from oral tradition in Schr[:o]ter's _Finnische Runen_, (_Finnisch und +Deutsch_,) ed. 1834, p. 151. + + + "Say whence com'st thou, say whence com'st thou, + Merry son of mine?" + "From the lake-side, from the lake-side, + O dear mother mine." + + "What hast done there, what hast done there, 5 + Merry son of mine?" + "Steeds I watered, steeds I watered, + O dear mother mine." + + "Why thus clay-bedaubed thy jacket, + Merry son of mine?" 10 + "Steeds kept stamping, steeds kept stamping, + O dear mother mine." + + "But how came thy sword so bloody, + Merry son of mine?" + "I have stabbed my only brother, 15 + O dear mother mine." + + "Whither wilt thou now betake thee, + Merry son of mine?" + "Far away to foreign countries, + O dear mother mine." 20 + + "Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired father, + Merry son of mine?" + "Let him chop wood in the forest, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 25 + + "Where leav'st thou thy gray-haired mother, + Merry son of mine?" + "Let her sit, her flax a-picking, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 30 + + "Where leav'st thou thy wife so youthful, + Merry son of mine?" + "Let her deck her, take another, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 35 + + "Where leav'st thou thy son so youthful, + Merry son of mine?" + "He to school, and bear the rod there, + [Never wish to see me more,] + O dear mother mine." 40 + + "Where leav'st thou thy youthful daughter, + Merry son of mine?" + "She to the wood and eat wild berries, + Never wish to see me more, + O dear mother mine." 45 + + "Home when com'st thou back from roaming, + Merry son of mine?" + "In the north when breaks the morning, + O dear mother mine." + + "In the north when breaks the morning, 50 + Merry son of mine?" + "When stones dance upon the water, + O dear mother mine." + + "When shall stones dance on the water, + Merry son of mine?" 55 + "When a feather sinks to the bottom, + O dear mother mine." + + "When shall feathers sink to the bottom, + Merry son of mine?" + "When we all shall come to judgment, 60 + O dear mother mine." + + + + +THE TWA BROTHERS. See p. 220. + +From Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. 61. + + + There were twa brothers at the scule, + And when they got awa',-- + "It's will ye play at the stane-chucking, + Or will ye play at the ba', + Or will ye gae up to yon hill head, 5 + And there we'll warsel a fa'?" + + "I winna play at the stane-chucking, + Nor will I play at the ba'; + But I'll gae up to yon bonnie green hill, + And there we'll warsel a fa'." 10 + + They warsled up, they warsled down, + Till John fell to the ground; + A dirk fell out of William's pouch, + And gave John a deadly wound. + + "O lift me upon your back, 15 + Take me to yon well fair, + And wash my bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, + And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair." + + He's lifted his brother upon his back, + Ta'en him to yon well fair; 20 + He's wash'd his bluidy wounds o'er and o'er, + But they bleed ay mair and mair. + + "Tak ye aff my Holland sark, + And rive it gair by gair, + And row it in my bluidy wounds, 25 + And they'll ne'er bleed nae mair." + + He's taken aff his Holland sark, + And torn it gair by gair; + He's rowit it in his bluidy wounds, + But they bleed ay mair and mair. 30 + + "Tak now aff my green cleiding, + And row me saftly in; + And tak me up to yon kirk style, + Whare the grass grows fair and green." + + He's taken aff the green cleiding, 35 + And rowed him saftly in; + He's laid him down by yon kirk style, + Whare the grass grows fair and green. + + "What will ye say to your father dear, + When ye gae hame at e'en?" 40 + "I'll say ye're lying at yon kirk style, + Whare the grass grows fair and green." + + "O no, O no, my brother dear, + O you must not say so; + But say that I'm gane to a foreign land, 45 + Whare nae man does me know." + + When he sat in his father's chair, + He grew baith pale and wan: + "O what blude 's that upon your brow? + O dear son, tell to me." 50 + "It is the blude o' my gude gray steed, + He wadna ride wi' me." + + "O thy steed's blude was ne'er sae red, + Nor e'er sae dear to me: + O what blude 's this upon your cheek? 55 + O dear son, tell to me." + "It is the blude of my greyhound, + He wadna hunt for me." + + "O thy hound's blude was ne'er sae red, + Nor e'er sae dear to me: 60 + O what blude 's this upon your hand? + O dear son, tell to me." + "It is the blude of my gay goss hawk, + He wadna flee for me." + + "O thy hawk's blude was ne'er sae red, 65 + Nor e'er sae dear to me: + O what blude 's this upon your dirk? + Dear Willie, tell to me." + "It is the blude of my ae brother, + O dule and wae is me!" 70 + + "O what will ye say to your father? + Dear Willie, tell to me." + "I'll saddle my steed, and awa I'll ride + To dwell in some far countrie." + + "O when will ye come hame again? 75 + Dear Willie, tell to me." + "When sun and mune leap on yon hill, + And that will never be." + + She turn'd hersel' right round about, + And her heart burst into three: 80 + "My ae best son is deid and gane, + And my tother ane I'll ne'er see." + + + + +THE MILLER AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER. See p. 231. + + +From _Wit Restor'd_, (1658,) reprinted, London, 1817, i. 153. It is +there ascribed to "Mr. Smith," (Dr. James Smith, the author of many +of the pieces in that collection,) who may have written it down from +tradition, and perhaps added a verse or two. Mr. Rimbault has +printed the same piece from a broadside dated 1656, in _Notes and +Queries_, v. 591. A fragment of it is given from recitation at p. +316 of that volume, and a copy quite different from any before +published, at p. 102 of vol. vi. Although two or three stanzas are +ludicrous, and were probably intended for burlesque, this ballad is +by no means to be regarded as a parody. + + There were two sisters, they went a-playing, + _With a hie downe, downe, a downe a_; + To see their fathers ships sayling in. + _With a hy downe, downe, a downe o._ + + And when they came into the sea brym, + _With_, &c. + The elder did push the younger in. + _With_, &c. + + "O sister, O sister, take me by the gowne, 5 + _With_, &c. + And drawe me up upon the dry ground." + _With_, &c. + + "O sister, O sister, that may not bee, + _With_, &c. + Till salt and oatmeale grow both of a tree." + _With_, &c. + + Somtymes she sanke, somtymes she swam, + _With_, &c. + Untill she came unto the mildam. 10 + _With_, &c. + + The miller runne hastily downe the cliffe, + _With_, &c. + And up he betook her withouten her life. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her brest bone? + _With_, &c. + He made him a viall to play thereupon. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her fingers so small? 15 + _With_, &c. + He made him peggs to his violl withall. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her nose-ridge? + _With_, &c. + Unto his violl he made him a bridge. + _With_, &c. + + What did he do with her veynes so blewe? + _With_, &c. + He made him strings to his viole thereto. 20 + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her eyes so bright? + _With_, &c. + Upon his violl he played at first sight. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her tongue soe rough? + _With_, &c. + Unto the violl it spake enough. + _With_, &c. + + What did he doe with her two shinnes? 25 + _With_, &c. + Unto the violl they danct Moll Syms. + _With_, &c. + + Then bespake the treble string, + _With_, &c. + "O yonder is my father the king." + _With_, &c. + + Then bespake the second string, + _With_, &c. + "O yonder sitts my mother the queen." 30 + _With_, &c. + + And then bespake the stringes all three, + _With_, &c. + "O yonder is my sister that drowned mee." + _With_, &c. + + Now pay the miller for his payne, + _With_, &c. + And let him bee gone in the divels name. + _With_, &c. + + + + +THE BONNY BOWS O' LONDON. See p. 231. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 128. + + + There were twa sisters in a bower, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And ae king's son hae courted them baith, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + He courted the youngest wi' broach and ring, 5 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + He courted the eldest wi' some other thing, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + It fell ance upon a day, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_, 10 + The eldest to the youngest did say, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_: + + "Will ye gae to yon Tweed mill dam," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_, + "And see our father's ships come to land?" 15 + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They baith stood up upon a stane, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The eldest dang the youngest in, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 20 + + She swimmed up, sae did she down, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + Till she came to the Tweed mill-dam, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + The miller's servant he came out, 25 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And saw the lady floating about, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + "O master, master, set your mill," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 30 + "There is a fish, or a milk-white swan," + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They could not ken her yellow hair, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + [For] the scales o' gowd that were laid there, 35 + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They could not ken her fingers sae white, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The rings o' gowd they were sae bright, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 40 + + They could not ken her middle sae jimp, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The stays o' gowd were so well laced, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + They could not ken her foot sae fair, 45 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + The shoes o' gowd they were so rare, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + Her father's fiddler he came by, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 50 + Upstarted her ghaist before his eye, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + "Ye'll take a lock o' my yellow hair," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + "Ye'll make a string to your fiddle there," 55 + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + "Ye'll take a lith o' my little finger bane," + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + "And ye'll make a pin to your fiddle then," + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. 60 + + He's ta'en a lock o' her yellow hair, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And made a string to his fiddle there, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + He's taen a lith o' her little finger bane, 65 + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; + And he's made a pin to his fiddle then, + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + The firstand spring the fiddle did play, + _Hey wi' the gay and the grinding_; 70 + Said, "Ye'll drown my sister, as she's dune me." + _At the bonny, bonny bows o' London_. + + + + +I. + +THE CROODLIN DOO. See _Lord Donald_, p. 244. + + +From Chambers's _Scottish Ballads_, p. 324. Other copies in _The +Scot's Musical Museum_, (1853,) vol. iv. 364*, and Buchan's _Ballads +of the North of Scotland_, ii. 179. + + "O whaur hae ye been a' the day, + My little wee croodlin doo?" + "O I've been at my grandmother's; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "O what gat ye at your grandmother's, 5 + My little wee croodlin doo?" + "I got a bonnie wee fishie; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "O whaur did she catch the fishie, + My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" 10 + "She catch'd it in the gutter-hole; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "And what did she do wi' the fish, + My little wee croodlin doo?" + "She boiled it in a brass pan; 15 + O mak my bed, mammie, noo." + + "And what did ye do wi' the banes o't, + My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" + "I gied them to my little dog; + Mak my bed, mammie, noo," 20 + + "And what did your little doggie do, + My bonnie wee croodlin doo?" + "He stretch'd out his head, his feet, and dee'd, + And so will I, mammie, noo!" + + + + +II. + +THE SNAKE-COOK. + + +From oral tradition, in Erk's _Deutscher Leiderhort_, p. 6. Our +homely translation is, as far as possible, word for word. Other +German versions are _The Stepmother_, at p. 5 of the same +collection, (or Uhland, i. 272,) and _Grandmother Adder-cook_, at p. +7. The last is translated by Jamieson, _Illustrations of Northern +Antiquities_, p. 320. + + "Where hast thou been away so long, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "O I have been at my true-love's, + Lady mother, ah me! + _My young life, 5 + She has poisoned for me_." + + "What gave she thee to eat, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "She cooked me a speckled fish, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. 10 + + "And how many pieces cut she thee, + Henry my dearest son?" + "She cut three little pieces from it, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "Where left she then the third piece, 15 + Henry, my dearest son?" + "She gave it to her dark-brown dog, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "And what befell the dark-brown dog, + Henry, my dearest son?" 20 + "His belly burst in the midst in two, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "What wishest thou for thy father, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "I wish him a thousandfold boon and blessing, 25 + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + "What wishest thou for thy mother, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "I wish for her eternal bliss, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. 30 + + "What wishest thou for thy true-love, + Henry, my dearest son?" + "I wish her eternal hell and torment, + Lady mother, ah me!" &c. + + + + +III. + +THE CHILD'S LAST WILL. + + +_Den lillas Testamente: Svenska Folk-Visor_, iii. 13. Translated in +_Literature and Romance of Northern Europe_, i. 265. See also +Arwidsson's _Forns[oa]nger_, ii. 90. + + "So long where hast thou tarried, + Little daughter dear?" + "I have tarried with my old nurse, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 5 + + "What gave she thee for dinner, + Little daughter dear?" + "A few small speckled fishes, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 10 + + "What didst thou do with the fish-bones, + Little daughter dear?" + "Gave them to the beagle, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 15 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy father, + Little daughter dear?" + "The blessedness of heaven, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 20 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy mother, + Little daughter dear?" + "All the joys of heaven, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 25 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy brother, + Little daughter dear?" + "A fleet ship on the waters, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 30 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy sister, + Little daughter dear?" + "Golden chests and caskets, + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 35 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy step-mother, + Little daughter dear?" + "Of hell the bitter sorrow + Sweet step-mother mine." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 40 + + "What wish leav'st thou thy old nurse, + Little daughter dear?" + "For her I wish the same pangs, + Sweet step-mother mine. + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 45 + + "But now the time is over + When I with you can stay; + The little bells of heaven + Are ringing me away." + _For ah, ah!--I am so ill--ah!_ 50 + + + + +THE THREE KNIGHTS. See p. 251. + + +From the second edition of Gilbert's _Ancient Christmas Carols_, &c. +p. 68. + + There did three Knights come from the West, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And these three Knights courted one Lady, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + The first Knight came was all in white, 5 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And asked of her, if she'd be his delight, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + The next Knight came was all in green, + _With the high and the lily oh_! 10 + And asked of her, if she'd be his Queen, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + The third Knight came was all in red, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And asked of her, if she would wed, 15 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "Then have you asked of my Father dear, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + Likewise of her who did me bear? + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 20 + + "And have you asked of my brother John? + _With the high and the lily oh_! + And also of my sister Anne?" + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "Yes, I have asked of your Father dear, 25 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + Likewise of her who did you bear, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "And I have asked of your sister Anne, + _With the high and the lily oh_! 30 + But I've not asked of your brother John," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + [Here some verses seem to be wanting.] + + For on the road as they rode along, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + There did they meet with her brother John, 35 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + She stooped low to kiss him sweet, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + He to her heart did a dagger meet, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 40 + + "Ride on, ride on," cried the serving man, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "Methinks your bride she looks wond'rous wan," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "I wish I were on yonder stile, 45 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + For there I would sit and bleed awhile, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "I wish I were on yonder hill, + _With the high and the lily oh_! 50 + There I'd alight and make my will," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your Father dear?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "The gallant steed which doth me bear," 55 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your Mother dear?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "My wedding shift which I do wear, + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. 60 + + "But she must wash it very clean, + _With the high and the lily oh_! + For my heart's blood sticks in every seam," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your sister Anne?" 65 + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "My gay gold ring, and my feathered fan," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your brother John?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! 70 + "A rope and gallows to hang him on," + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + "What would you give to your brother John's wife?" + _With the high and the lily oh_! + "A widow's weeds, and a quiet life," 75 + _As the rose was so sweetly blown_. + + + + +THE CRUEL MOTHER. See p. 262. + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 222. + + + It fell ance upon a day, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + It fell ance upon a day, _Stirling for aye_; + It fell ance upon a day, + The clerk and lady went to play, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 5 + + "If my baby be a son, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + If my baby be a son, _Stirling for aye_; + If my baby be a son, + I'll make him a lord o' high renown," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 10 + + She's lean'd her back to the wa', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's lean'd her back to the wa', _Stirling for aye_; + She's lean'd her back to the wa', + Pray'd that her pains might fa', + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 15 + + She's lean'd her back to the thorn, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's lean'd her back to the thorn, _Stirling for aye_; + She's lean'd her back to the thorn, + There has her baby born, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 20 + + "O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, _Stirling for aye_; + O bonny baby, if ye suck sair, + You'll never suck by my side mair," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 25 + + She's riven the muslin frae her head, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's riven the muslin frae her head, _Stirling for aye_; + She's riven the muslin frae her head, + Tied the baby hand and feet, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 30 + + Out she took her little penknife, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + Out she took her little penknife, _Stirling for aye_; + Out she took her little penknife, + Twin'd the young thing o' its life, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 35 + + She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, _Stirling for aye_; + She's howk'd a hole anent the meen, + There laid her sweet baby in, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 40 + + She had her to her father's ha', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She had her to her father's ha', _Stirling for aye_; + She had her to her father's ha', + She was the meekest maid amang them a', + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 45 + + It fell ance upon a day, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + It fell ance upon a day, _Stirling for aye_; + It fell ance upon a day, + She saw twa babies at their play, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 50 + + "O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, _Stirling for aye_; + O bonny babies, gin ye were mine, + I'd cleathe you in the silks sae fine," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 55 + + "O wild mother, when we were thine, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + O wild mother, when we were thine, _Stirling for aye_; + O wild mother, when we were thine, + You cleath'd us not in silks sae fine, + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 60 + + "But now we're in the heavens high, _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + But now we're in the heavens high, _Stirling for aye_; + But now we're in the heavens high, + And you've the pains o' hell to try," + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 65 + + She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', _Edinbro'_, _Edinbro'_, + She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', _Stirling for aye_; + She threw hersell ower the castle-wa', + There I wat she got a fa', + _So proper Saint Johnston stands fair upon Tay_. 70 + + + + +THE MINISTER'S DOCHTER O' NEWARKE. + + +See p. 262. + +From _Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads_, Percy +Society, vol. xvii. p. 51. This is the same ballad, with trifling +variations, as _The Minister's Daughter of New York_, Buchan, ii. +217. + + The Minister's dochter o' Newarke, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Has fa'en in luve wi' her father's clerk, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She courted him sax years and a day, 5 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + At length her fause-luve did her betray, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She did her doun to the green woods gang, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 10 + To spend awa' a while o' her time, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She lent her back unto a thorn, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_; + And she's got her twa bonnie boys born, 15 + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + She's ta'en the ribbons frae her hair, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Boun' their bodies fast and sair, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 20 + + She's put them aneath a marble stane, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Thinkin' a may to gae her hame, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + Leukin' o'er her castel wa', 25 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + She spied twa bonny boys at the ba', + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "O bonny babies, if ye were mine, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 30 + I woud feed ye wi' the white bread and wine, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "I wou'd feed ye with the ferra cow's milk, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + An' dress ye i' the finest silk," 35 + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "O cruel mother, when we were thine, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + We saw nane o' your bread and wine, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 40 + + "We saw nane o' your ferra cow's milk, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Nor wore we o' your finest silk," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "O bonny babies, can ye tell me, 45 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + What sort o' death for ye I maun dee," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Yes, cruel mother, we'll tell to thee, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, 50 + What sort o' death for us ye maun dee, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Seven years a fool i' the woods, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + "Seven years a fish i' the floods, 55 + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Seven years to be a church bell, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Seven years a porter i' hell," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. 60 + + "Welcome, welcome, fool i' the wood, + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + Welcome, welcome, fish i' the flood, + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + "Welcome, welcome, to be a church bell, 65 + _Hey wi' the rose and the lindie O_, + But heavens keep me out o' hell," + _Alane by the green burn sidie O_. + + + + +BONDSEY AND MAISRY. See p. 298. + + +From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 265. + + "O come along wi' me, brother, + Now come along wi' me; + And we'll gae seek our sister Maisry, + Into the water o' Dee." + + The eldest brother he stepped in, 5 + He stepped to the knee; + Then out he jump'd upo' the bank, + Says, "This water's nae for me." + + The second brother he stepped in, + He stepped to the quit; 10 + Then out he jump'd upo' the bank, + Says, "This water's wond'rous deep." + + When the third brother stepped in, + He stepped to the chin; + Out he got, and forward wade, 15 + For fear o' drowning him. + + The youngest brother he stepped in, + Took 's sister by the hand; + Said, "Here she is, my sister Maisry, + Wi' the hinny draps on her chin. 20 + + "O if I were in some bonny ship, + And in some strange countrie, + For to find out some conjurer, + To gar Maisry speak to me!" + + Then out it speaks an auld woman, 25 + As she was passing by; + "Ask of your sister what you want, + And she will speak to thee." + + "O sister, tell me who is the man, + That did your body win? 30 + And who is the wretch, tell me, likewise, + That threw you in the lin?" + + "O Bondsey was the only man + That did my body win; + And likewise Bondsey was the man 35 + That threw me in the lin." + + "O will we Bondsey head, sister? + Or will we Bondsey hang? + Or will we set him at our bow end, + Lat arrows at him gang?" 40 + + "Ye winna Bondsey head, brothers, + Nor will ye Bondsey hang; + But ye'll take out his twa grey e'en, + Make Bondsey blind to gang. + + "Ye'll put to the gate a chain o' gold, 45 + A rose garland gar make; + And ye'll put that in Bondsey's head, + A' for your sister's sake." + + + + +LADY DIAMOND. + + +From the Percy Society Publications, xvii. 71. The same in Buchan, +ii. 206. The ballad is given in Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, under the +title of _Dysmal_, and by Aytoun, _Ballads of Scotland_, 2d ed., ii. +173, under that of _Lady Daisy_. All these names are corruptions of +Ghismonda, on whose well-known story (_Decamerone_, iv. 1, 9) the +present is founded.--This piece and the next might better have been +inserted at p. 347, as a part of the Appendix to Book III. + + There was a king, an' a curious king, + An' a king o' royal fame; + He had ae dochter, he had never mair, + Ladye Diamond was her name. + + She's fa'en into shame, an' lost her gude name, 5 + An' wrought her parents 'noy; + An' a' for her layen her luve so low, + On her father's kitchen boy. + + Ae nicht as she lay on her bed, + Just thinkin' to get rest, 10 + Up it came her old father, + Just like a wanderin' ghaist. + + "Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says, + "Rise up, put on your goun; + Rise up, rise up, ladye Diamond," he says, 15 + "For I fear ye gae too roun'." + + "Too roun I gae, yet blame me nae; + Ye'll cause me na to shame; + For better luve I that bonnie boy + Than a' your weel-bred men." 20 + + The king's ca'd up his wa'-wight men, + That he paid meat an' fee: + "Bring here to me that bonnie boy, + An' we'll smore him right quietlie." + + Up hae they ta'en that bonnie boy, 25 + Put him 'tween twa feather beds; + Naethin' was dane, nor naethin' said, + Till that bonnie bonnie boy was dead. + + The king's ta'en out a braid braid sword, + An' streak'd it on a strae; 30 + An' thro' an' thro' that bonnie boy's heart + He's gart cauld iron gae. + + Out has he ta'en his poor bluidie heart, + Set it in a tasse o' gowd, + And set it before ladye Diamonds face, 35 + Said "Fair ladye, behold!" + + Up has she ta'en this poor bludie heart, + An' holden it in her han'; + "Better luved I that bonnie bonnie boy + Than a' my father's lan'." 40 + + Up has she ta'en his poor bludie heart, + An' laid it at her head; + The tears awa' frae her eyne did flee, + An' ere midnicht she was dead. + + + + +THE WEST COUNTRY DAMOSELS COMPLAINT. + + +From Collier's _Book of Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 202. + +After a broadside "printed by P. Brooksby, at the Golden Bull in +Westsmith-field, neer the Hospitall Gate." The first ten or twelve +stanzas seem to be ancient. + + "When will you marry me, William, + And make me your wedded wife? + Or take you your keen bright sword, + And rid me out of my life." + + "Say no more then so,[L5] lady, 5 + Say you no more then so, + For you shall unto the wild forrest, + And amongst the buck and doe. + + "Where thou shalt eat of the hips and haws, + And the roots that are so sweet, 10 + And thou shalt drink of the cold water + That runs underneath your feet." + + Now had she not been in the wild forrest + Passing three months and a day, + But with hunger and cold she had her fill, 15 + Till she was quite worn away. + + At last she saw a fair tyl'd house, + And there she swore by the rood, + That she would to that fair tyl'd house, + There for to get her some food. 20 + + But when she came unto the gates, + Aloud, aloud she cry'd, + "An alms, an alms, my own sister! + I ask you for no pride." + + Her sister call'd up her merry men all, 25 + By one, by two, and by three, + And bid them hunt away that wild doe, + As far as e'er they could see. + + They hunted her o're hill and dale, + And they hunted her so sore, 30 + That they hunted her into the forrest, + Where her sorrows grew more and more. + + She laid a stone all at her head, + And another all at her feet, + And down she lay between these two, 35 + Till death had lull'd her asleep. + + When sweet Will came and stood at her head, + And likewise stood at her feet, + A thousand times he kiss'd her cold lips, + Her body being fast asleep. 40 + + Yea, seaven times he stood at her feet, + And seaven times at her head; + A thousand times he shook her hand, + Although her body was dead. + + "Ah wretched me!" he loudly cry'd, 45 + "What is it that I have done? + O wou'd to the powers above I'de dy'd, + When thus I left her alone! + + "Come, come, you gentle red-breast now, + And prepare for us a tomb, 50 + Whilst unto cruel Death I bow, + And sing like a swan my doom. + + "Why could I ever cruel be + Unto so fair a creature; + Alas! she dy'd for love of me, 55 + The loveliest she in nature! + + "For me she left her home so fair + To wander in this wild grove, + And there with sighs and pensive care + She ended her life for love. 60 + + "O constancy, in her thou'rt lost! + Now let women boast no more; + She's fled unto the Elizian coast, + And with her carry'd the store. + + "O break, my heart, with sorrow fill'd, 65 + Come, swell, you strong tides of grief! + You that my dear love have kill'd, + Come, yield in death to me relief. + + "Cruel her sister, was't for me + That to her she was unkind? 70 + Her husband I will never be, + But with this my love be joyn'd. + + "Grim Death shall tye the marriage bands, + Which jealousie shan't divide; + Together shall tye our cold hands, 75 + Whilst here we lye side by side. + + "Witness, ye groves, and chrystal streams, + How faithless I late have been; + But do repent with dying leaves + Of that my ungrateful sin; 80 + + "And wish a thousand times that I + Had been but to her more kind, + And not have let a virgin dye, + Whose equal there's none can find. + + "Now heaps of sorrow press my soul; 85 + Now, now 'tis she takes her way; + I come, my love, without controule, + Nor from thee will longer stay." + + With that he fetch'd a heavy groan, + Which rent his tender breast, 90 + And then by her he laid him down, + When as Death did give him rest. + + Whilst mournful birds, with leavy bows, + To them a kind burial gave, + And warbled out their love-sick vows, 95 + Whilst they both slept in their grave. + +5, so then. + + + + +THE BRAVE EARL BRAND AND THE KING OF ENGLAND'S DAUGHTER. See p. 114. + + +From Bell's _Ballads of the Peasantry of England_, p. 122. + +This ballad, which was printed by Bell from the recitation of an old +Northumberland fiddler, is defective in the tenth and the last +stanzas, and has suffered much from corruption in the course of +transmission. The name of the hero, however, is uncommonly well +preserved, and affords a link, rarely occurring in English, with the +corresponding Danish and Swedish ballads, a good number of which +have Hildebrand, though more have Ribold. It may be observed that in +_Hildebrand og Hilde_ (Grundtvig, No. 83), the knight has the rank +here ascribed to the lady. + + "Hand heede hertug Hyldebraand, + Kongens s[:o]nn aff Engeland." + +The "old Carl Hood" who gives the alarm in this ballad, is called in +most of the Danish ballads "a rich earl"; in one a treacherous man, +in another a young Carl, and in a third an old man; which together +furnish the elements of his character here of a treacherous old +Carl. + + O did you ever hear of the brave Earl Brand? + _Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!_ + He's courted the king's daughter o' fair England, + _I' the brave nights so early._ + + She was scarcely fifteen years that tide, + When sae boldly she came to his bed-side. + + "O Earl Brand, how fain wad I see 5 + A pack of hounds let loose on the lea." + + "O lady fair, I have no steed but one, + But thou shalt ride and I will run." + + "O Earl Brand, but my father has two, + And thou shalt have the best of tho." 10 + + Now they have ridden o'er moss and moor, + And they have met neither rich nor poor. + + Till at last they met with old Carl Hood, + He's aye for ill, and never for good. + + "Now, Earl Brand, an ye love me, 15 + Slay this old carl, and gar him dee." + + "O lady fair, but that would be sair, + To slay an auld carl that wears grey hair. + + "My own lady fair, I'll not do that, + I'll pay him his fee......." 20 + + "O where have ye ridden this lee lang day, + And where have ye stown this fair lady away?" + + "I have not ridden this lee lang day, + Nor yet have I stown this lady away. + + "For she is, I trow, my sick sister, 25 + Whom I have been bringing fra Winchester." + + "If she's been sick, and nigh to dead, + What makes her wear the ribbon so red? + + "If she's been sick, and like to die, + What makes her wear the gold sae high?" 30 + + When came the carl to the lady's yett, + He rudely, rudely rapped thereat. + + "Now where is the lady of this hall?" + "She's out with her maids a-playing at the ball." + + "Ha, ha, ha! ye are all mista'en; 35 + Ye may count your maidens owre again. + + "I met her far beyond the lea, + With the young Earl Brand, his leman to be." + + Her father of his best men armed fifteen, + And they're ridden after them bidene. 40 + + The lady looked owre her left shoulder then; + Says, "O Earl Brand, we are both of us ta'en." + + "If they come on me one by one, + You may stand by till the fights be done. + + "But if they come on me one and all, 45 + You may stand by and see me fall." + + They came upon him one by one, + Till fourteen battles he has won. + + And fourteen men he has them slain, + Each after each upon the plain. 50 + + But the fifteenth man behind stole round, + And dealt him a deep and deadly wound. + + Though he was wounded to the deid, + He set his lady on her steed. + + They rode till they came to the river Doune, 55 + And there they lighted to wash his wound. + + "O Earl Brand, I see your heart's blood!" + "It's nothing but the glent and my scarlet hood."[L58] + + They rode till they came to his mother's yett, + So faint and feebly he rapped thereat. 60 + + "O my son's slain, he is falling to swoon, + And it's all for the sake of an English loon!" + + "O say not so, my dearest mother, + But marry her to my youngest brother. + + "To a maiden true he'll give his hand, 65 + To the king's daughter o' fair England. + + "[To the king's daughter o' fair England,] + _Hey lillie, ho lillie lallie!_ + To a prize that was won by a slain brother's brand," + _I' the brave nights so early._ + +58. Qy.? _of_ my scarlet hood. + + + + +LA VENDICATRICE. See p. 273. + + +From _Canti Popolari Inediti Umbri, Piceni, Piemontesi, Latini, +raccolti e illustrati da_ ORESTE MARCOALDI. Genova, 1855. p. +167.--From Alessandria. + + "Oh varda ben, Munfrenna,[L1] + Oh varda qul cast[e']:[L2] + I'[e'] trentatr[e'] fantenni[L3] + Ch' a j' ho menaji me.[L4] + I m' han neg[a'][L5] l' amure, + La testa a j' ho taj[e']."[L6] + + "Ch' u 'm digga l[:u], Sior[L7] Conte; + Ch' u 'm lassa la so' sp[a']."[L8] + "Oh dim[i'] ti, Monfrenna, + Cosa ch' a 't na voi fa'?"[L10] + "A voi taj[e'][L11] 'na frasca, + Per ombra al me' cav[a']."[L12] + Lesta con la spadenna[L13] + Al cor a j' ha pass[a']. + + "Va l[a'], va l[a'], Sior Conte, + Va l[a'] 'nte quei boscon;[L16] + Le spenni[L17] e li serpenti + Saran toi[L18] compagnon." + +1 guarda ben, Monferina. + +2 quel castello. + +3 fanciulle. + +4 menate io. + +5 negato. + +6 tagliato. + +7 dica lei, signor. + +8 sua spada. + +10 vuoi fare. + +11 tagliare. + +12 cavallo. + +13 spadina. + +16 (_boscon_) cespugli. + +17 spine. + +18 tuoi. + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + +[pointing hand] Figures placed after words denote the pages in which +they occur. + + aboon, _above_, _upon_. + + abound, 335, _bound_. + + abune a' thing, _above all things_. + + a dee, 335, _to do_. + + ae, _one_. + + aft, _oft_. + + aith, _oath_. + + an, _if_. + + ance, _once_. + + anent, _opposite to_. + + are, _early_. + + assoile, _absolve_. + + aucht, _owns_; + wha is aucht that bairn? _who is it owns that child?_ + + ava, _of all_. + + a-warslin, _a wrestling_. + + ayont, _beyond_. + + + ba', _ball_. + + badena, _abode not_. + + bairn, _child_. + + baith, _both_. + + ban, 89, _bond_. + + beet, 340, _add fuel_. + + bierdly, _large and well-made_, _stately_. + + biggins, _buildings_. + + ben, _in_, _within_. + + bestan, _best_. + + best young man, _bridesman_. + + bidden, _bidding_. + + bidene, _in a company_, _forthwith_ (?) + + billie, _comrade_, _brother_. + + binna, _beest not_. + + birk, _birch_. + + birling, _pouring out_ [_drink_], _drinking_. + + blan, _ceased_, _stopped_. + + blate, _sheepish_, _ashamed_. + + blear, [noun,] _dimness_. + + blinkit, _blinked_, _winked_. + + blinne, _cease_. + + borrow, _ransom_. + + bouerie, _chamber_. + + boun, _ready_. + + bour, bower, _chamber_. + + bra', braw, _handsome_. + + bracken, _female fern_. + + brae, _hill-side_. + + braid, _broad_. + + brain, _mad_. + + brent, _burnt_; + 308, v. 31, _straight_? + + bridesteel, (Buchan,) 183, _bridal_? + + brigg, brigue, _bridge_. + + broo, _broth_. + + brook, _enjoy_. + + brunt, _burnt_. + + buird, _board_. + + burd, _lady_. + + burn, _brook_. + + busking, _dressing_, _making ready_. + + but, butt, _without_. + + but and, _and also_. + + byre, _cow-house_. + + + ca', _call_. + + cannel, 327. Qy. a corruption? + + canny, _knowing_, _expert_, _gentle_, _adroitly_, _carefully_. + + cast, _trick_, _turn_. + + channerin, _fretting_. + + chap, _tap_, _rap_; + chappit, 11, _tapped_, _rapped_; + at the chin, _should probably be_ at the pin, _or tongue of the + latch_. + + cheir, _cheer_. + + claise, _clothes_. + + clap, _fondle_; + clappit, _patted_, _fondled_. + + cleading, _clothing_. + + clecked, _hatched_. + + cleed, _clothe_. + + cleiding, _clothing_. + + clerks, _scholars_. + + cliding, _clothing_. + + close, _lane_. + + cod, _pillow_. + + coil, 324, _cock of hay_. + + coost, _cast_. + + could, _used with the infinitive as an auxiliary, to form a past + tense_. + + crap, _crop_, _top_. + + croodlin doo, _cooing dove_. + + crowse, _brisk_. + + cuik, _cook_. + + curches, _kerchiefs_. R. Jamieson, "_linen caps tying under the + chin._" + + cuttit, _cut_. + + + dabs, _pricks_. + + dang, 301, _overcome_; + 361, _pushed_. + + dapperby, 189, _dapper_? + + daut, _fondle_, _caress_. + + daw, _dawn_. + + dead, _death_. + + dear-boucht, _dear-bought_. + + deas, _sometimes a pew in a church_. + + dee, _die_. + + dee, do, _avail_. + + deid, _death_. + + deight, dight, _decked_. + + den, _valley_. + + depart, 124, _part_. + + dight, 253, _skilfully_, _readily_? + + dighted, _dressed_, _wiped_. + + dine, _dinner_. + + ding, _strike_. + + dinna, _do not_. + + disna, _does not_. + + dool, _sorrow_. + + dout, _fear_. + + dowie, _mournful_, _sad_, _gloomy_. + + downa, _cannot_. + + dows, _doves_. + + dreaded, _doubted_. + + dree, _suffer_. + + drew up with, 94, _formed relations of love with_. + + drie, _suffer_. + + drumly, _troubled_. + + dule, _grief_, _sorrow_. + + dune, _done_. + + dwines, _dwindles_. + + + e'e, _eye_. + + een, _eye_, _eyes_. + + eneuch, _enough_. + + ezer, _azure_. + + + fadge, _clumsy woman_. + + faem, _foam_. + + fare, _go_. + + farrow-cow, _a barren cow_. + + fee, _property_, _wages_. + + fell, _hill_. + + fell, _strange_. + + ferra cow, _farrow cow_, _a cow not with calf_. + + ffree, _noble_. + + firstan, firstand, _first_. + + fit, _foot_. + + fitches, 329, _flitches_? + + flang'd, _flung_. + + fleed, _flood_. + + foremost man, _bridesman_. + + forlorn, _lost_. + + fou, fow, _full_. + + frush, _brittle_. + + fur, furrow, _a furrows length_, _furlong_. + + + gaed, _went_. + + gair, 354, _gore_, _strip_. See gare. + + gang, _go_; + gangs, _goes_. + + gar, _make_. + + gare, 55, _gore_; + apparently, here, _skirt_. So, hung low down by his gair, 296, _by + the edge of his frock_. The word seems also to be used vaguely + in romances for _clothing_. + + garl, _gravel_. + + gate, _way_. + + gear, _goods_, _clothes_. + + gin, _trick_, _wile_. + + gleed, _a burning coal_; + 97, _blaze_. + + glent, _gleam_, _glimmer_. + + gone, _go_. + + gowd, _gold_; + gowden, _golden_. + + gowk, _fool_. + + gravat, _cravat_? + + greaf, _grave_. + + greet, _cry_, _weep_. + + gris, _a costly fur_. + + grit, _big_. + + groom, _man_. + + gross, _heavy_. + + gryte, _great_, _big_. + + Gude, _God_. + + + ha', _hall_. + + had her, _betook her_. + + hallow-days, _holidays_. + + haly, _holy_. + + happit, _covered_. + + hass, _neck_. + + haud, _hold_; + haud unthought lang, _keep from ennui_. + + hause, _neck_. + + head, _behead_. + + healy, _slowly_, _softly_. + + heght, _promised_. + + her lane, _herself alone_. + + herried, _robbed_. + + hich, _high_. + + hinny, _honey_. + + hip, _the berry which contains the stones or seeds of the dog-rose_. + + hooly, _slowly_, _gently_. + + how, _ho!_ + + hows, _hollows_, _dells_. + + howket, _dug_. + + huggell, _huddle_, _cuddle_. + + huly, _slowly_. + + + intill, _into_, _in_. + + into, _on_. + + iwis, _certainly_. + + + jaw, 233, _wave_. + + jawing, _dashing_. + + jimp, _slender_. + + jo, _sweetheart_. + + jollie, _handsome_. + + jow, _stroke in tolling_. + + + kell, _caul_, _a species of cap, or net-work, worn by women as a + head-dress_. + + kembe, _comb_; + kembing, _combing_. + + kenna, _know not_; + kentna, _knew not_. + + kens, _knows_. + + kerches, _kerchiefs_. + + kilted, _tucked up_. + + kin, _kind_; + a' kin, _all kind_. + + kist, _chest_. + + kitchey, _kitchen_. + + know, _knoll_. + + kye, _cows_. + + kythe, _become_, _manifest_. + + + laigh, _low_. + + lain, _alone_; + ye're your lain, _you are alone_; + hir lain, _her alone_. + + lair, _learning_. + + lane, _alone_; + the same in combination with the pronouns _my_, _his_, _her_, + _its_, _&c._ + + lap, _leapt_. + + latten, _let_. + + lauch, _laugh_. + + laumer, 327, _amber_. + + lave, _rest_. + + lealest, _truest_, _chastest_. + + lear, _lore_, _lesson_. + + lease, _leash_. + + lee, _lonesome_. + + lee-lang, _livelong_. + + lei, 132, _lonesome_. + + len, _lie_. + + lent, _leaned_. + + let, _stop_, _delay_. + + leuch, leugh, _laughed_. + + lichtly, _lightly_. + + lig, _lie_. + + lighter, _delivered_. + + limmers, _strumpets_. + + linn, _the pool under a cataract_, _cataract_. + + lith, _joint_. + + lither, _naughty_, _wicked_. + + looten, _let_. + + loup, _leap_. + + lourd, _liefer_, _rather_. + + louted, _bent_. + + louze, _loosen_. + + lykewake, _watching of a dead body_. + + + mae, _more_. + + maene, moan, _lamentation_. + + maist, 58, maistly, _almost_. + + make, _mate_. + + mane, _moan_. + + maries, _maids_. + + marrow, _mate_. + + mat, _may_. + + maun, _must_. + + maunna, _may not_. + + may, _maid_. + + meen, _moan_, _lament_. + + message, _messenger_. + + micht, _might_. + + mind, _remember_. + + mirk, _murky_. + + mith, _might_. + + Moll Syms, 359, _a celebrated dance tune of the 16th century_. + + mools, _the earth of the grave_, _the dust of the dead_. + + mot, _may_. + + my lane, _alone by myself_. + + + niest, _next_. + + nourice, _nurse_. + + + oer, ower, _over_, _too_. + + ohon, _alas_. + + owsen, _oxen_. + + Owsenford, _Oxford_. + + + pa', pall, _rich cloth_. + + Parish, _Paris_. + + part, 151, _separate from_. + + pat, _pot_. + + pearlin' gear, _pearl ornaments_. + + pin, _door-latch_. + + plat, _plaited_. + + plea, _quarrel_. + + pot, _a pool_, _or deep place, in a river_. + + prin, _pin_. + + propine, _gift_. + + putten down, _hung_. + + + queet, quit, _ancle_. + + quhair, quhat, quhy, &c., _where_, _what_, _why_, _&c._ + + + rair'd, _roared_. + + rave, _tore off_. + + reavel'd, _tangled_. + + rede, _advice_, _advise_; + 263, _story_. + + reest, _roost_. + + renown, [Buchan,] 169, _haughtiness_? + + rigland shire, 331? + + rin, _run_. + + ritted, _routed_, _struck_. + + riv't, _tear it_. + + row, _roll_. + + row'd, _rolled_. + + + sabelline, _sable_. + + sanna, _shall not_. + + sarbit, _an exclamation of sorrow_. + + sark, _shirt_. + + saugh, _willow_. + + scheet, _school_. + + schill, _shrill_. + + scug, _expiate_. + + see, (save and,) _protect_. + + seen, sen, _then_, _since_. + + send, 334, _the messengers sent for the bride at a wedding_. + + sets, _suits_. + + shed by, 77, _parted_, _put back_. + + sheen, _shine_. + + sheen, _shoes_. + + sheet, _shoot_. + + sheuch, _furrow_, _ditch_. + + shimmerd, _shone_. + + shot-window, _a projected window_. + + sic, _such_. + + sich, _sigh_. + + sindle, _seldom_. + + sinsyne, _since_. + + skinkled, _sparkled_. + + slack, _a gap or pass between two hills_. + + slait, _passed across_, _whetted_. + + slap, _a narrow pass between two hills_. + + smore, _smother_. + + snood, _a fillet or ribbon for the hair_. + + socht, _sought_. + + sorray, _sorrow_. + + soum, sowm, _swim_. + + spakes, _spokes_, _bars_. + + speer, speir, _ask_. + + spreckl'd, _speckled_. + + stap, _stuff_. + + stean, _stone_. + + steek'd, _fastened_. + + stey, _steep_. + + stint, _stop_. + + stock, _the forepart of a bed_. + + stout, 300, _haughty_. + + strae, stray, _straw_. + + straiked, streaked, _stroked_, _drew_. + + streek, _stretch_; + streekit, _stretched_; + streikit, _laid out_. + + striped, _thrust_. + + suld, _should_. + + syke, _marshy bottom_. + + syne, _then_, _afterwards_. + + + tane, _one_, [_after the._] + + tasse, _cup_. + + tate, _lock_ (_of hair_). + + tee, _too_. + + teem, _empty_. + + teen, _sorrow_, _suffering_. + + tent, _heed_. + + thae, _these_. + + the, _thrive_. + + thegither, _together_. + + thir, tho, _these_, _those_. + + thorn'd, 335, _eaten_? + + thought lang, _felt ennui_. + + thouth, _thought_, _seemed_. + + thraw, 302, _writhe_, _twist_; + thrawen, _crooked_. + + thresel-cock, _throstle_, _thrush_. + + threw, 130, _throve_. + + thrild upon a pinn. See _tirled_ below. + + tift, _puff_ (_of wind_). + + till, _to_, _on_. + + tirled at the pin, _trilled or rattled, at the door-latch, to obtain + entrance_. + + tither, _other_. + + tocher, _dowry_. + + toomly, _empty_. + + tow, _rope_. + + triest, tryst, _make an assignation_. + + true, _trow_. + + twain, _part_. + + twal, _twelve_. + + twin, _part_; + twinn'd, _deprived_, _parted_. + + + unco, _unknown_, _strange_. + + + virr, _strength_. + + vow, _interjection of surprise_. + + + wad, _would_. + + wadded, _wagered_, _staked_. + + wadding, _wedding_. + + wae, waeful', _sad_, _sorrowful_. + + waked, _watched_. + + walde, _would_. + + wale, _choice_. + + wambe, wame, _womb_. + + wan, _reached_. + + wand, wandie, _bough_, _wand_, _stick_. + + wan na in, _got not in_. + + wap, _throw_. + + wappit, _beat_, _fluttered_. + + warde, 35, _advise_, _forewarn_. + + wark, _work_. + + warlock, _wizzard_. + + warstan, _worst_. + + warstled, _wrestled_. + + wat, _know_. + + water-kelpy, _a malicious spirit thought to haunt fords and ferries, + especially in storms, and to swell the waters beyond their + ordinary limit, for the destruction of luckless travellers_. + + wavers, 40, _wanders_. + + wa'-wight, 383, _waled_, _picked_, _strong-men or warriors_. See + vol. vi. 220, v. 15. + + wean, _child_. + + wee, _little_. + + weed, _dress_. + + weir-horse, _war-horse_. + + werne, _were_. + + wha is aught, _who is it owns_. + + whang, _thong_. + + whaten, _what_. + + wicht, _strong_, _agile_. + + widdershins, _the contrary way_, _round about_. + + wide, _wade_. + + wight, _strong_, _agile_. + + win, _arrive_, _reach_, _come_, _get_. + + winna, _will not_. + + winsome, _charming_, _attractive_. + + woe, _sad_. + + won up, _got up_. + + wood, _mad_; + wood-wroth, _mad with anger_. + + worth, _be_; + wae worth you, _sorrow come upon you_. + + wow, _alas_. + + wraith, _wroth_. + + wrongous, _wrong_. + + wull, _will_. + + wyte, _punish_, _blame_. + + + yae, _every_. + + yare, _ready_. + + yeats, yetts, _gates_. + + yestreen, _yesterday_. + + yird-fast, _fixed in the earth_. + + yode, _went_. + + yont, _beyond_, _further off_. + + Yule, _Christmas_. + + + ze, zet, zour, &c., _ye_, _yet_, _your_. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes + +Irregular and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the +original. Typographical errors such as wrongly placed line numbers +and punctuation have been corrected without comment. Where changes +have been made to the wording these are listed as follows: + +Page 10, line 33: added missing opening quotation mark ("But look that +ye tell na Gib your man,...) + +Page 38, line note 157: reference originally read "177". + +Page 55, line 47, 48: added missing quotation marks (Lye yont, lye yont, +Willie," she says, / "For your sweat I downa bide O.") + +Page 97, line 97: added final comma ("Now haud your tongue, my lord," she +said, ...) + +Page 118, line 58, 59: removed unnecessary quotation mark ("Get up, and +let me in!-- / Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, ...) + +Page 119, line 71: deleted duplicate "the" (Out o' the lady's grave +grew a bonny red rose). + +Page 184, line 50: deleted erroneous closing quotation mark (Says, +"What means a' this mourning?) + +Page 189, line 41 and page 396: "dapperpy" appears in the text but is +"dapperby" in the Glossary (O he has pou'd aff his dapperby coat, ...) + +Page 227, line 41: added open quotation mark ("And quhat wul ze leive to +zour bairns and zour wife,) + +Page 263 line 16: added missing period (A playing at the ba'."--) + +Page 270, line 24: changed "Doan" to "Doun" (Doun by the greenwud +sae bonnie) + +Page 300: added missing closing quotation mark (... taken place in +Bothwell church." SCOTT.) + +Page 338, line 11: changed "Majorie" to "Marjorie" (That Lady +Marjorie she gaes wi' child, ...) + +Page 347: heading "Book IV" removed. Note that it does not appear in the +Table of Contents and there are several references to ballads and page +numbers after this point as part of the Appendix. Note also that Volume +3 starts with "Book III (continued)". + +Page 352, line 42: added closing quotation mark ("Where leav'st thou thy +youthful daughter, / Merry son of mine?") + +Page 401, changed "widdershius" to "widdershins" (widdershins, _the +contrary way_, _round about_.) + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of English and Scottish Ballads, Volume +II (of 8), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH, SCOTTISH BALLADS, VOL 2 OF 8 *** + +***** This file should be named 37738.txt or 37738.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/7/3/37738/ + +Produced by Simon Gardner, Dianna Adair, Marilynda +Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by the Digital & Multimedia +Center, Michigan State University Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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