137,140,143, Taillant.161,166Taillant.
137,140,143, Taillant.
161,166Taillant.
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, iii. 159.
"There is a copy of this ballad in Mrs. Brown's collection. The editor has seen one, printed on a single sheet. The epithet, "Smith," implies, probably, the sirname, not the profession, of the hero, who seems to have been an outlaw. There is, however, in Mrs. Brown's copy, a verse of little merit, here omitted, alluding to the implements of that occupation."Scott.
"There is a copy of this ballad in Mrs. Brown's collection. The editor has seen one, printed on a single sheet. The epithet, "Smith," implies, probably, the sirname, not the profession, of the hero, who seems to have been an outlaw. There is, however, in Mrs. Brown's copy, a verse of little merit, here omitted, alluding to the implements of that occupation."Scott.
O wha wad wish the wind to blaw,Or the green leaves fa' therewith?Or wha wad wish a lealer loveThan Brown Adam the Smith?But they hae banished him, Brown Adam,5Frae father and frae mother;And they hae banish'd him, Brown Adam,Frae sister and frae brother.And they hae banish'd him, Brown Adam,The flower o' a' his kin;10And he's bigged a bour in gude green-woodAtween his ladye and him.It fell upon a summer's day,Brown Adam he thought lang;And, for to hunt some venison,15To green-wood he wald gang.He has ta'en his bow his arm o'er,His bolts and arrows lang;And he is to the gude green-woodAs fast as he could gang.20O he's shot up, and he's shot down,The bird upon the brier;And he sent it hame to his ladye,Bade her be of gude cheir.O he's shot up, and he's shot down,25The bird upon the thorn;And sent it hame to his ladye,Said he'd be hame the morn.When he cam to his lady's bour doorHe stude a little forbye,30And there he heard a fou fause knightTempting his gay ladye.For he's ta'en out a gay goud ring,Had cost him many a poun',"O grant me love for love, ladye,35And this sall be thy own."—"I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she said;"I trew sae does he me;I wadna gie Brown Adam's loveFor nae fause knight I see."—40Out has he ta'en a purse o' gowd,Was a' fou to the string,"O grant me love for love, ladye,And a' this sall be thine."—"I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she says;45"I wot sae does he me:I wadna be your light leman,For mair than ye could gie."—Then out he drew his lang bright brand,And flash'd it in her een;50"Now grant me love for love, ladye,Or thro' ye this sall gang!"—Then, sighing, says that ladye fair,"Brown Adam tarries lang!"—Then in and starts him Brown Adam,55Says—"I'm just at your hand."—He's gar'd him leave his bonny bow,He's gar'd him leave his brand,He's gar'd him leave a dearer pledge—Four fingers o' his right hand.60
O wha wad wish the wind to blaw,Or the green leaves fa' therewith?Or wha wad wish a lealer loveThan Brown Adam the Smith?
But they hae banished him, Brown Adam,5Frae father and frae mother;And they hae banish'd him, Brown Adam,Frae sister and frae brother.
And they hae banish'd him, Brown Adam,The flower o' a' his kin;10And he's bigged a bour in gude green-woodAtween his ladye and him.
It fell upon a summer's day,Brown Adam he thought lang;And, for to hunt some venison,15To green-wood he wald gang.
He has ta'en his bow his arm o'er,His bolts and arrows lang;And he is to the gude green-woodAs fast as he could gang.20
O he's shot up, and he's shot down,The bird upon the brier;And he sent it hame to his ladye,Bade her be of gude cheir.
O he's shot up, and he's shot down,25The bird upon the thorn;And sent it hame to his ladye,Said he'd be hame the morn.
When he cam to his lady's bour doorHe stude a little forbye,30And there he heard a fou fause knightTempting his gay ladye.
For he's ta'en out a gay goud ring,Had cost him many a poun',"O grant me love for love, ladye,35And this sall be thy own."—
"I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she said;"I trew sae does he me;I wadna gie Brown Adam's loveFor nae fause knight I see."—40
Out has he ta'en a purse o' gowd,Was a' fou to the string,"O grant me love for love, ladye,And a' this sall be thine."—
"I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she says;45"I wot sae does he me:I wadna be your light leman,For mair than ye could gie."—
Then out he drew his lang bright brand,And flash'd it in her een;50"Now grant me love for love, ladye,Or thro' ye this sall gang!"—Then, sighing, says that ladye fair,"Brown Adam tarries lang!"—
Then in and starts him Brown Adam,55Says—"I'm just at your hand."—He's gar'd him leave his bonny bow,He's gar'd him leave his brand,He's gar'd him leave a dearer pledge—Four fingers o' his right hand.60
Complete copies of this pretty ballad are given in Buchan'sBallads of the North of Scotland, ii. 102, and in Whitelaw'sBook of Scottish Ballads, p. 51.The latter we have printed with the present version, which, though lacking a stanza or two, is better in some respects than either of the others.—Robert Allan has made a song out of this ballad, Smith'sScottish Minstrel, ii. 100.
"Transmitted to the Editor by ProfessorScottof Aberdeen, as it was taken down from the recitation of an old woman. It is very popular in the north-east of Scotland, and was familiar to the editor in his early youth; and from the imperfect recollection which he still retains of it, he has corrected the text in two or three unimportant passages."Jamieson'sPopular Ballads, ii. 149.
"Transmitted to the Editor by ProfessorScottof Aberdeen, as it was taken down from the recitation of an old woman. It is very popular in the north-east of Scotland, and was familiar to the editor in his early youth; and from the imperfect recollection which he still retains of it, he has corrected the text in two or three unimportant passages."Jamieson'sPopular Ballads, ii. 149.
"Will ye go to the Highlands, Lizie Lindsay,Will ye go to the Highlands wi' me?Will ye go to the Highlands, Lizie Lindsay,And dine on fresh cruds and green whey?"Then out spak Lizie's mother,5A good old lady was she,"Gin ye say sic a word to my daughter,I'll gar ye be hanged high.""Keep weel your daughter frae me, madam;Keep weel your daughter frae me;10I care as little for your daughter,As ye can care for me."Then out spak Lizie's ain maiden,A bonny young lassie was she;Says,—"were I the heir to a kingdom,15Awa' wi' young Donald I'd be.""O say you sae to me, Nelly?And does my Nelly say sae?Maun I leave my father and mother,Awa' wi' young Donald to gae?"20And Lizie's ta'en till her her stockings,And Lizie's ta'en till her her shoen;And kilted up her green claithing,And awa' wi' young Donald she's gane.The road it was lang and weary;25The braes they were ill to climb;Bonny Lizie was weary wi' travelling,And a fit furder coudna win.And sair, O sair did she sigh,And the saut tear blin'd her e'e;30"Gin this be the pleasures o' looing,They never will do wi' me!""Now, haud your tongue, bonny Lizie;Ye never shall rue for me;Gi'e me but your love for my love,35It is a' that your tocher will be."And haud your tongue, bonny Lizie;Altho' that the gait seem lang,And you's ha'e the wale o' good livingWhan to Kincawsen we gang.40"There my father he is an auld cobler,My mother she is an auld dey;And we'll sleep on a bed o' green rashes,And dine on fresh cruds and green whey.""You're welcome hame, Sir Donald,45You're welcome hame to me.""O ca' me nae mair Sir Donald;There's a bonny young lady to come;Sae ca' me nae mair Sir Donald,But ae spring Donald your son."50"Ye're welcome hame, young Donald;Ye're welcome hame to me;Ye're welcome hame, young Donald,And your bonny young lady wi' ye."She's made them a bed of green rashes,55Weel cover'd wi' hooding o' grey;Bonny Lizie was weary wi' travelling,And lay till 'twas lang o' the day."The sun looks in o'er the hill-head,And the laverock is liltin' gay;60Get up, get up, bonny Lizie,You've lain till its lang o' the day."You might ha'e been out at the shealin,Instead o' sae lang to lye,And up and helping my mother65To milk baith her gaits and kye."Then out spak Lizie Lindsay,The tear blindit her eye;"The ladies o' Edinburgh cityThey neither milk gaits nor kye."70Then up spak young Sir Donald,* * * * * ** * * * * ** * * * * *"For I am the laird o' Kincawsyn,And you are the lady free;And * * * * ** * * * * *
"Will ye go to the Highlands, Lizie Lindsay,Will ye go to the Highlands wi' me?Will ye go to the Highlands, Lizie Lindsay,And dine on fresh cruds and green whey?"
Then out spak Lizie's mother,5A good old lady was she,"Gin ye say sic a word to my daughter,I'll gar ye be hanged high."
"Keep weel your daughter frae me, madam;Keep weel your daughter frae me;10I care as little for your daughter,As ye can care for me."
Then out spak Lizie's ain maiden,A bonny young lassie was she;Says,—"were I the heir to a kingdom,15Awa' wi' young Donald I'd be."
"O say you sae to me, Nelly?And does my Nelly say sae?Maun I leave my father and mother,Awa' wi' young Donald to gae?"20
And Lizie's ta'en till her her stockings,And Lizie's ta'en till her her shoen;And kilted up her green claithing,And awa' wi' young Donald she's gane.
The road it was lang and weary;25The braes they were ill to climb;Bonny Lizie was weary wi' travelling,And a fit furder coudna win.
And sair, O sair did she sigh,And the saut tear blin'd her e'e;30"Gin this be the pleasures o' looing,They never will do wi' me!"
"Now, haud your tongue, bonny Lizie;Ye never shall rue for me;Gi'e me but your love for my love,35It is a' that your tocher will be.
"And haud your tongue, bonny Lizie;Altho' that the gait seem lang,And you's ha'e the wale o' good livingWhan to Kincawsen we gang.40
"There my father he is an auld cobler,My mother she is an auld dey;And we'll sleep on a bed o' green rashes,And dine on fresh cruds and green whey."
"You're welcome hame, Sir Donald,45You're welcome hame to me."
"O ca' me nae mair Sir Donald;There's a bonny young lady to come;Sae ca' me nae mair Sir Donald,But ae spring Donald your son."50
"Ye're welcome hame, young Donald;Ye're welcome hame to me;Ye're welcome hame, young Donald,And your bonny young lady wi' ye."
She's made them a bed of green rashes,55Weel cover'd wi' hooding o' grey;Bonny Lizie was weary wi' travelling,And lay till 'twas lang o' the day.
"The sun looks in o'er the hill-head,And the laverock is liltin' gay;60Get up, get up, bonny Lizie,You've lain till its lang o' the day.
"You might ha'e been out at the shealin,Instead o' sae lang to lye,And up and helping my mother65To milk baith her gaits and kye."
Then out spak Lizie Lindsay,The tear blindit her eye;"The ladies o' Edinburgh cityThey neither milk gaits nor kye."70
Then up spak young Sir Donald,* * * * * ** * * * * ** * * * * *
"For I am the laird o' Kincawsyn,And you are the lady free;And * * * * ** * * * * *
"This version ofLizzie Lindsayis given from the recitation of a lady in Glasgow, and is a faithful transcript of the ballad as it used to be sung in the West of Scotland."Whitelaw'sBook of Scottish Ballads, p. 51.—A very good copy, from Mr. Kinloch's MS., is printed in Aytoun'sBallads of Scotland, i. 269, (Donald of the Isles.)
There was a braw ball in EdinburghAnd mony braw ladies were there,But nae ane at a' the assemblyCould wi' Lizzie Lindsay compare.In cam' the young laird o' Kincassie,5An' a bonnie young laddie was he—"Will ye lea' yere ain kintra, Lizzie,An' gang to the Hielands wi' me?"She turned her roun' on her heel,An' a very loud laughter gaed she—10"I wad like to ken whar I was ganging,And wha I was gaun to gang wi'.""My name is young Donald M'Donald,My name I will never deny;My father he is an auld shepherd,15Sae weel as he can herd the kye!"My father he is an auld shepherd,My mother she is an auld dame;If ye'll gang to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie,Ye's neither want curds nor cream."20"If ye'll call at the Canongate port,At the Canongate port call on me,I'll give you a bottle o' sherry,And bear you companie."He ca'd at the Canongate port,25At the Canongate port called he;She drank wi' him a bottle o' sherry,And bore him guid companie."Will ye go to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie,Will ye go to the Hielands wi' me?30If ye'll go to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie,Ye shall not want curds nor green whey."In there cam' her auld mither,A jolly auld lady was she—"I wad like to ken whar she was ganging,35And wha she was gaun to gang wi'.""My name is young Donald M'Donald,My name I will never deny,My father he is an auld shepherd,Sae weel as he can herd the kye!40"O but I would give you ten guineas,To have her one hour in a room,To get her fair body a pictureTo keep me from thinking long.""O I value not your ten guineas,45As little as you value mine;But if that you covet my daughter,Take her with you, if you do incline.""Pack up my silks and my satins,And pack up my hose and my shoon,50And likewise my clothes in small bundles,And away wi' young Donald I'll gang."They pack'd up her silks and her satins,They pack'd up her hose and her shoon,And likewise her clothes in small bundles,55And away with young Donald she's gane.When that they cam' to the Hielands,The braes they were baith lang and stey;Bonnie Lizzie was wearied wi' ganging—She had travell'd a lang summer day.60"O are we near hame, Sir Donald,O are we near hame, I pray?""We're no near hame, bonnie Lizzie,Nor yet the half o' the way."They cam' to a homely poor cottage,65An auld man was standing by;"Ye're welcome hame, Sir Donald,Ye've been sae lang away.""O call me no more Sir Donald,But call me young Donald your son;70For I have a bonnie young ladyBehind me for to come in.""Come in, come in, bonnie Lizzie,Come in, come in," said he,"Although that our cottage be little,75Perhaps the better we'll 'gree."O make us a supper, dear mother,And make it of curds an' green whey;And make us a bed o' green rushes,And cover it o'er wi' green hay."80"Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizzie,Why lie ye so long in the day;Ye might ha'e been helping my motherTo make the curds and green whey.""O haud your tongue, Sir Donald,85O haud your tongue I pray;I wish I had ne'er left my mother,I can neither make curds nor whey.""Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizzie,And put on your satins so fine;90For we maun to be at KincassieBefore that the clock strikes nine."But when they came to KincassieThe porter was standing by;—"Ye're welcome home, Sir Donald,95Ye've been so long away."It's down then came his auld mither,With all the keys in her hand,Saying, "Take you these, bonnie Lizzie,All under them's at your command."
There was a braw ball in EdinburghAnd mony braw ladies were there,But nae ane at a' the assemblyCould wi' Lizzie Lindsay compare.
In cam' the young laird o' Kincassie,5An' a bonnie young laddie was he—"Will ye lea' yere ain kintra, Lizzie,An' gang to the Hielands wi' me?"
She turned her roun' on her heel,An' a very loud laughter gaed she—10"I wad like to ken whar I was ganging,And wha I was gaun to gang wi'."
"My name is young Donald M'Donald,My name I will never deny;My father he is an auld shepherd,15Sae weel as he can herd the kye!
"My father he is an auld shepherd,My mother she is an auld dame;If ye'll gang to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie,Ye's neither want curds nor cream."20
"If ye'll call at the Canongate port,At the Canongate port call on me,I'll give you a bottle o' sherry,And bear you companie."
He ca'd at the Canongate port,25At the Canongate port called he;She drank wi' him a bottle o' sherry,And bore him guid companie.
"Will ye go to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie,Will ye go to the Hielands wi' me?30If ye'll go to the Hielands, bonnie Lizzie,Ye shall not want curds nor green whey."
In there cam' her auld mither,A jolly auld lady was she—"I wad like to ken whar she was ganging,35And wha she was gaun to gang wi'."
"My name is young Donald M'Donald,My name I will never deny,My father he is an auld shepherd,Sae weel as he can herd the kye!40
"O but I would give you ten guineas,To have her one hour in a room,To get her fair body a pictureTo keep me from thinking long."
"O I value not your ten guineas,45As little as you value mine;But if that you covet my daughter,Take her with you, if you do incline."
"Pack up my silks and my satins,And pack up my hose and my shoon,50And likewise my clothes in small bundles,And away wi' young Donald I'll gang."
They pack'd up her silks and her satins,They pack'd up her hose and her shoon,And likewise her clothes in small bundles,55And away with young Donald she's gane.
When that they cam' to the Hielands,The braes they were baith lang and stey;Bonnie Lizzie was wearied wi' ganging—She had travell'd a lang summer day.60
"O are we near hame, Sir Donald,O are we near hame, I pray?""We're no near hame, bonnie Lizzie,Nor yet the half o' the way."
They cam' to a homely poor cottage,65An auld man was standing by;"Ye're welcome hame, Sir Donald,Ye've been sae lang away."
"O call me no more Sir Donald,But call me young Donald your son;70For I have a bonnie young ladyBehind me for to come in."
"Come in, come in, bonnie Lizzie,Come in, come in," said he,"Although that our cottage be little,75Perhaps the better we'll 'gree.
"O make us a supper, dear mother,And make it of curds an' green whey;And make us a bed o' green rushes,And cover it o'er wi' green hay."80
"Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizzie,Why lie ye so long in the day;Ye might ha'e been helping my motherTo make the curds and green whey."
"O haud your tongue, Sir Donald,85O haud your tongue I pray;I wish I had ne'er left my mother,I can neither make curds nor whey."
"Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizzie,And put on your satins so fine;90For we maun to be at KincassieBefore that the clock strikes nine."
But when they came to KincassieThe porter was standing by;—"Ye're welcome home, Sir Donald,95Ye've been so long away."
It's down then came his auld mither,With all the keys in her hand,Saying, "Take you these, bonnie Lizzie,All under them's at your command."
From Herd'sScottish Songs, ii. 50. A longer version, from Buchan's larger collection, isin the Appendix. Mr. Chambers, assuming that the foregoing ballad ofLizie Lindsaywas originally the same asLizie Baillie, has made out of various copies of both one story in two parts:The Scottish Ballads, p. 158. Smith has somewhat altered the language of this ballad:Scottish Minstrel, iv. 90.
Lizae Baillie's to Gartartan gane,To see her sister Jean;And there she's met wi' Duncan Græme,And he's convoy'd her hame."My bonny Lizae Baillie,5I'll row ye in my plaidie,And ye maun gang alang wi' me,And be a Highland lady.""I'm sure they wadna ca' me wise,Gin I wad gang wi' you, Sir;10For I can neither card nor spin,Nor yet milk ewe or cow, Sir.""My bonny Lizae Baillie,Let nane o' these things daunt ye;Ye'll hae nae need to card or spin,15Your mither weel can want ye."Now she's cast aff her bonny shoen,Made o' the gilded leather,And she's put on her highland brogues,To skip amang the heather:20And she's cast aff her bonny gown,Made o' the silk and sattin,And she's put on a tartan plaid,To row amang the braken.She wadna hae a Lawland laird,25Nor be an English lady;But she wad gang wi' Duncan Græme,And row her in his plaidie.She was nae ten miles frae the town,When she began to weary;30She aften looked back, and said,"Farewell to Castlecarry."The first place I saw my Duncan Græme,Was near yon holland bush;My father took frae me my rings,35My rings but and my purse."But I wadna gie my Duncan GræmeFor a' my father's land,Though it were ten times ten times mair,And a' at my command."40* * * * * * * * *Now wae be to you, loggerheads,That dwell near Castlecarry,To let awa' sic a bonny lass,A Highlandman to marry.45
Lizae Baillie's to Gartartan gane,To see her sister Jean;And there she's met wi' Duncan Græme,And he's convoy'd her hame.
"My bonny Lizae Baillie,5I'll row ye in my plaidie,And ye maun gang alang wi' me,And be a Highland lady."
"I'm sure they wadna ca' me wise,Gin I wad gang wi' you, Sir;10For I can neither card nor spin,Nor yet milk ewe or cow, Sir."
"My bonny Lizae Baillie,Let nane o' these things daunt ye;Ye'll hae nae need to card or spin,15Your mither weel can want ye."
Now she's cast aff her bonny shoen,Made o' the gilded leather,And she's put on her highland brogues,To skip amang the heather:20
And she's cast aff her bonny gown,Made o' the silk and sattin,And she's put on a tartan plaid,To row amang the braken.
She wadna hae a Lawland laird,25Nor be an English lady;But she wad gang wi' Duncan Græme,And row her in his plaidie.
She was nae ten miles frae the town,When she began to weary;30She aften looked back, and said,"Farewell to Castlecarry.
"The first place I saw my Duncan Græme,Was near yon holland bush;My father took frae me my rings,35My rings but and my purse.
"But I wadna gie my Duncan GræmeFor a' my father's land,Though it were ten times ten times mair,And a' at my command."40
* * * * * * * * *
Now wae be to you, loggerheads,That dwell near Castlecarry,To let awa' sic a bonny lass,A Highlandman to marry.45
From recitation, in Kinloch'sAncient Scottish Ballads, p. 174. Other copies are printed in Buchan'sBallads of the North of Scotland, ii. 155, (Donald of the Isles,) Sharpe'sBallad Book, p. 40, (and Chambers'sPopular Rhymes, p. 27,) Smith'sScottish Minstrel, iv. 78.
The Lawland lads think they are fine,But the hieland lads are brisk and gaucy;And they are awa near Glasgow toun,To steal awa a bonnie lassie."I wad gie my gude brown steed,5And sae wad I my gude grey naigie,That I war fifty miles frae the toun,And nane wi' me but my bonnie Peggy."But up then spak the auld gudman,And vow but he spak wondrous saucie;—10"Ye may steal awa our cows and ewes,But ye sanna get our bonnie lassie.""I have got cows and ewes anew,I've got gowd and gear already;Sae I dinna want your cows nor ewes,15But I will hae your bonnie Peggy.""I'll follow you oure moss and muir,I'll follow you oure mountains many,I'll follow you through frost and snaw,I'll stay na langer wi' my daddie."20He set her on a gude brown steed,Himself upon a gude grey naigie;They're oure hills, and oure dales,And he's awa wi' his bonnie Peggy.As they rade out by Glasgow toun,25And doun by the hills o' Achildounie,There they met the Earl of Hume,And his auld son, riding bonnie.Out bespak the Earl of Hume,And O but he spak wondrous sorry,—30"The bonniest lass about a' Glasgow toun,This day is awa wi' a hieland laddie."As they rade bye auld Drymen toun,The lassies leuch and lookit saucy,That the bonniest lass they ever saw,35Sud be riding awa wi' a hieland laddie.They rode on through moss and muir,And so did they owre mountains many,Until they cam to yonder glen,And she's lain doun wi' her hieland laddie.40Gude green hay was Peggy's bed,And brakens war her blankets bonnie;Wi' his tartan plaid aneath her head,And she's lain doun wi' her hieland laddie."There's beds and bowsters in my father's house,45There's sheets and blankets, and a' thing ready,And wadna they be angry wi' me,To see me lie sae wi' a hieland laddie.""Tho' there's beds and beddin in your father's house,Sheets and blankets and a' made ready,50Yet why sud they be angry wi' thee,Though I be but a hieland laddie?"It's I hae fifty acres of land,It's a' plow'd and sawn already;I am Donald the Lord of Skye,55And why sud na Peggy be call'd a lady?"I hae fifty gude milk kye,A' tied to the staws already;I am Donald the Lord of Skye,And why sud na Peggy be call'd a lady!60"See ye no a' yon castles and tow'rs?The sun sheens owre them a sae bonnie;I am Donald the Lord of Skye,I think I'll mak ye as blythe as onie."A' that Peggy left behind65Was a cot-house and a wee kail-yardie;Now I think she is better by far,Than tho' she had got a lawland lairdie."
The Lawland lads think they are fine,But the hieland lads are brisk and gaucy;And they are awa near Glasgow toun,To steal awa a bonnie lassie.
"I wad gie my gude brown steed,5And sae wad I my gude grey naigie,That I war fifty miles frae the toun,And nane wi' me but my bonnie Peggy."
But up then spak the auld gudman,And vow but he spak wondrous saucie;—10"Ye may steal awa our cows and ewes,But ye sanna get our bonnie lassie."
"I have got cows and ewes anew,I've got gowd and gear already;Sae I dinna want your cows nor ewes,15But I will hae your bonnie Peggy."
"I'll follow you oure moss and muir,I'll follow you oure mountains many,I'll follow you through frost and snaw,I'll stay na langer wi' my daddie."20
He set her on a gude brown steed,Himself upon a gude grey naigie;They're oure hills, and oure dales,And he's awa wi' his bonnie Peggy.
As they rade out by Glasgow toun,25And doun by the hills o' Achildounie,There they met the Earl of Hume,And his auld son, riding bonnie.
Out bespak the Earl of Hume,And O but he spak wondrous sorry,—30"The bonniest lass about a' Glasgow toun,This day is awa wi' a hieland laddie."
As they rade bye auld Drymen toun,The lassies leuch and lookit saucy,That the bonniest lass they ever saw,35Sud be riding awa wi' a hieland laddie.
They rode on through moss and muir,And so did they owre mountains many,Until they cam to yonder glen,And she's lain doun wi' her hieland laddie.40
Gude green hay was Peggy's bed,And brakens war her blankets bonnie;Wi' his tartan plaid aneath her head,And she's lain doun wi' her hieland laddie.
"There's beds and bowsters in my father's house,45There's sheets and blankets, and a' thing ready,And wadna they be angry wi' me,To see me lie sae wi' a hieland laddie."
"Tho' there's beds and beddin in your father's house,Sheets and blankets and a' made ready,50Yet why sud they be angry wi' thee,Though I be but a hieland laddie?
"It's I hae fifty acres of land,It's a' plow'd and sawn already;I am Donald the Lord of Skye,55And why sud na Peggy be call'd a lady?
"I hae fifty gude milk kye,A' tied to the staws already;I am Donald the Lord of Skye,And why sud na Peggy be call'd a lady!60
"See ye no a' yon castles and tow'rs?The sun sheens owre them a sae bonnie;I am Donald the Lord of Skye,I think I'll mak ye as blythe as onie.
"A' that Peggy left behind65Was a cot-house and a wee kail-yardie;Now I think she is better by far,Than tho' she had got a lawland lairdie."
First published in the fourth volume of Smith'sScottish Minstrel. Great liberties, says Motherwell, have been taken with the songs in that work. Other versions are given in Sharpe'sBallad Book, and in Buchan's larger collection, i. 188, (Jean o' Bethelnie's Love for Sir G. Gordon.)
Three score o' nobles rade up the king's ha',But bonnie Glenlogie's the flower o' them a';Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonnie black e'e,"Glenlogie, dear mither, Glenlogie for me!""O haud your tongue, dochter, ye'll get better than he;"5"O say nae sae, mither, for that canna be;Though Drumlie is richer, and greater than he,Yet if I maun tak him, I'll certainly dee."Where will I get a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon,Will gae to Glenlogie, andcum againshun?"10"O here am I, a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon,Will gae to Glenlogie, andcum againshun."When he gaed to Glenlogie, 'twas "wash and go dine;"'Twas "wash ye, my pretty boy, wash and go dine;""O 'twas ne'er my father's fashion, and it ne'er shall be mine,15To gar a lady's hasty errand wait till I dine."But there is, Glenlogie, a letter for thee;"The first line that he read, a low smile ga'e he,The next line that he read, the tear blindit his e'e;But the last line that he read, he gart the table flee.20"Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown;Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae a town;"But lang ere the horse was drawn and brought to the green,O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane."When he cam' to Glenfeldy's door, little mirth was there;25Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her hair;"Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye're welcome," said she,"Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see."Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben,But red and rosy grew she whene'er he sat down;30She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e,"O binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee."
Three score o' nobles rade up the king's ha',But bonnie Glenlogie's the flower o' them a';Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonnie black e'e,"Glenlogie, dear mither, Glenlogie for me!"
"O haud your tongue, dochter, ye'll get better than he;"5"O say nae sae, mither, for that canna be;Though Drumlie is richer, and greater than he,Yet if I maun tak him, I'll certainly dee.
"Where will I get a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon,Will gae to Glenlogie, andcum againshun?"10"O here am I, a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon,Will gae to Glenlogie, andcum againshun."
When he gaed to Glenlogie, 'twas "wash and go dine;"'Twas "wash ye, my pretty boy, wash and go dine;""O 'twas ne'er my father's fashion, and it ne'er shall be mine,15To gar a lady's hasty errand wait till I dine.
"But there is, Glenlogie, a letter for thee;"The first line that he read, a low smile ga'e he,The next line that he read, the tear blindit his e'e;But the last line that he read, he gart the table flee.20
"Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown;Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae a town;"But lang ere the horse was drawn and brought to the green,O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane.
"When he cam' to Glenfeldy's door, little mirth was there;25Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her hair;"Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye're welcome," said she,"Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see."
Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben,But red and rosy grew she whene'er he sat down;30She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e,"O binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee."
10,12shun again.
10,12shun again.
Neither the present version of this ballad, (taken from Buchan'sBallads of the North of Scotland, ii. 253,) nor that furnished by Kinloch, (Jock o' Hazelgreen, p. 206,) is at all satisfactory. Another, much superior in point of taste, but made up from four different copies, is given in Chambers'sScottish Ballads, p. 319.
Sir W. Scott's song ofJock o' Hazeldeanwas suggested by a single stanza of this ballad, which he had heard as a fragment, thus:
"'Why weep ye by the tide ladye,Why weep ye by the tide?I'll wed ye to my youngest son,And ye shall be his bride;And ye shall be his bride, ladye,Sae comely to be seen:'But aye she loot the tears down fa'For Jock o' Hazeldean."
"'Why weep ye by the tide ladye,Why weep ye by the tide?I'll wed ye to my youngest son,And ye shall be his bride;And ye shall be his bride, ladye,Sae comely to be seen:'But aye she loot the tears down fa'For Jock o' Hazeldean."
As I went forth to take the airIntill an evening clear,And there I spied a lady fairMaking a heavy bier.Making a heavy bier, I say,5But and a piteous meen;And aye she sigh'd, and said, alas!For John o' Hazelgreen.The sun was sinking in the west,The stars were shining clear;10When thro' the thickets o' the wood,A gentleman did appear.Says, "who has done you the wrong, fair maid,And left you here alane;Or who has kiss'd your lovely lips,15That ye ca' Hazelgreen?""Hold your tongue, kind sir," she said,"And do not banter so;How will ye add afflictionUnto a lover's woe?20For none's done me the wrong," she said,"Nor left me here alane;Nor none has kiss'd my lovely lips,That I ca' Hazelgreen.""Why weep ye by the tide, lady?25Why weep ye by the tide?How blythe and happy might he beGets you to be his bride!Gets you to be his bride, fair maid,And him I'll no bemean;30But when I take my words again,Whom call ye Hazelgreen?"What like a man was Hazelgreen?Will ye show him to me?""He is a comely proper youth,35I in my sleep did see;Wi' arms tall, and fingers small,—He's comely to be seen;"And aye she loot the tears down fallFor John o' Hazelgreen.40"If ye'll forsake young Hazelgreen,And go along with me,I'll wed you to my eldest son,Make you a lady free.""It's for to wed your eldest son45I am a maid o'er mean;I'll rather stay at home," she says,"And die for Hazelgreen.""If ye'll forsake young Hazelgreen,And go along with me,50I'll wed you to my second son,And your weight o' gowd I'll gie.""It's for to wed your second sonI am a maid o'er mean;I'll rather stay at home," she says,55"And die for Hazelgreen."Then he's taen out a siller comb,Comb'd down her yellow hair;And looked in a diamond bright,To see if she were fair.60"My girl, ye do all maids surpassThat ever I have seen;Cheer up your heart, my lovely lass,And hate young Hazelgreen.""Young Hazelgreen he is my love,65And ever mair shall be;I'll nae forsake young HazelgreenFor a' the gowd ye'll gie."But aye she sigh'd, and said, alas!And made a piteous meen;70And aye she loot the tears down fa',For John o' Hazelgreen.He looked high, and lighted low,Set her upon his horse;And they rode on to Edinburgh,75To Edinburgh's own cross.And when she in that city was,She look'd like ony queen;"'Tis a pity such a lovely lassShou'd love young Hazelgreen."80"Young Hazelgreen, he is my love,And ever mair shall be;I'll nae forsake young HazelgreenFor a' the gowd ye'll gie."And aye she sigh'd, and said, alas!85And made a piteous meen;And aye she loot the tears down fa',For John o' Hazelgreen."Now hold your tongue, my well-far'd maid,Lat a' your mourning be,90And a' endeavours I shall try,To bring that youth to thee;If ye'll tell me where your love stays,His stile and proper name.""He's laird o' Taperbank," she says,95"His stile, Young Hazelgreen."Then he has coft for that ladyA fine silk riding gown;Likewise he coft for that ladyA steed, and set her on;100Wi' menji feathers in her hat,Silk stockings and siller sheen;And they are on to Taperbank,Seeking young Hazelgreen.They nimbly rode along the way,105And gently spurr'd their horse,Till they rode on to Hazelgreen,To Hazelgreen's own close.Then forth he came, young Hazelgreen,To welcome his father free;110"You're welcome here, my father dear,And a' your companie."But when he look'd o'er his shoulder,A light laugh then gae he;Says, "If I getna this lady,115It's for her I must die;I must confess this is the maidI ance saw in a dream,A walking thro' a pleasant shade,As fair's a cypress queen."120"Now hold your tongue, young Hazelgreen,Lat a' your folly be;If ye be wae for that lady,She's thrice as wae for thee.She's thrice as wae for thee, my son;125As bitter doth complain;Well is she worthy o' the rigsThat lie on Hazelgreen."He's taen her in his arms twa,Led her thro' bower and ha';130"Cheer up your heart, my dearest dear,Ye're flower out o'er them a'.This night shall be our wedding e'en,The morn we'll say, Amen;Ye'se never mair hae cause to mourn,—135Ye're lady o' Hazelgreen."
As I went forth to take the airIntill an evening clear,And there I spied a lady fairMaking a heavy bier.Making a heavy bier, I say,5But and a piteous meen;And aye she sigh'd, and said, alas!For John o' Hazelgreen.
The sun was sinking in the west,The stars were shining clear;10When thro' the thickets o' the wood,A gentleman did appear.Says, "who has done you the wrong, fair maid,And left you here alane;Or who has kiss'd your lovely lips,15That ye ca' Hazelgreen?"
"Hold your tongue, kind sir," she said,"And do not banter so;How will ye add afflictionUnto a lover's woe?20For none's done me the wrong," she said,"Nor left me here alane;Nor none has kiss'd my lovely lips,That I ca' Hazelgreen."
"Why weep ye by the tide, lady?25Why weep ye by the tide?How blythe and happy might he beGets you to be his bride!Gets you to be his bride, fair maid,And him I'll no bemean;30But when I take my words again,Whom call ye Hazelgreen?
"What like a man was Hazelgreen?Will ye show him to me?""He is a comely proper youth,35I in my sleep did see;Wi' arms tall, and fingers small,—He's comely to be seen;"And aye she loot the tears down fallFor John o' Hazelgreen.40
"If ye'll forsake young Hazelgreen,And go along with me,I'll wed you to my eldest son,Make you a lady free.""It's for to wed your eldest son45I am a maid o'er mean;I'll rather stay at home," she says,"And die for Hazelgreen."
"If ye'll forsake young Hazelgreen,And go along with me,50I'll wed you to my second son,And your weight o' gowd I'll gie.""It's for to wed your second sonI am a maid o'er mean;I'll rather stay at home," she says,55"And die for Hazelgreen."
Then he's taen out a siller comb,Comb'd down her yellow hair;And looked in a diamond bright,To see if she were fair.60"My girl, ye do all maids surpassThat ever I have seen;Cheer up your heart, my lovely lass,And hate young Hazelgreen."
"Young Hazelgreen he is my love,65And ever mair shall be;I'll nae forsake young HazelgreenFor a' the gowd ye'll gie."But aye she sigh'd, and said, alas!And made a piteous meen;70And aye she loot the tears down fa',For John o' Hazelgreen.
He looked high, and lighted low,Set her upon his horse;And they rode on to Edinburgh,75To Edinburgh's own cross.And when she in that city was,She look'd like ony queen;"'Tis a pity such a lovely lassShou'd love young Hazelgreen."80
"Young Hazelgreen, he is my love,And ever mair shall be;I'll nae forsake young HazelgreenFor a' the gowd ye'll gie."And aye she sigh'd, and said, alas!85And made a piteous meen;And aye she loot the tears down fa',For John o' Hazelgreen.
"Now hold your tongue, my well-far'd maid,Lat a' your mourning be,90And a' endeavours I shall try,To bring that youth to thee;If ye'll tell me where your love stays,His stile and proper name.""He's laird o' Taperbank," she says,95"His stile, Young Hazelgreen."
Then he has coft for that ladyA fine silk riding gown;Likewise he coft for that ladyA steed, and set her on;100Wi' menji feathers in her hat,Silk stockings and siller sheen;And they are on to Taperbank,Seeking young Hazelgreen.
They nimbly rode along the way,105And gently spurr'd their horse,Till they rode on to Hazelgreen,To Hazelgreen's own close.Then forth he came, young Hazelgreen,To welcome his father free;110"You're welcome here, my father dear,And a' your companie."
But when he look'd o'er his shoulder,A light laugh then gae he;Says, "If I getna this lady,115It's for her I must die;I must confess this is the maidI ance saw in a dream,A walking thro' a pleasant shade,As fair's a cypress queen."120
"Now hold your tongue, young Hazelgreen,Lat a' your folly be;If ye be wae for that lady,She's thrice as wae for thee.She's thrice as wae for thee, my son;125As bitter doth complain;Well is she worthy o' the rigsThat lie on Hazelgreen."
He's taen her in his arms twa,Led her thro' bower and ha';130"Cheer up your heart, my dearest dear,Ye're flower out o'er them a'.This night shall be our wedding e'en,The morn we'll say, Amen;Ye'se never mair hae cause to mourn,—135Ye're lady o' Hazelgreen."
From Buchan'sBallads of the North of Scotland, i. 268. The fourth and fifth stanzas are found as a fragment in Herd'sScottish Songs, ii. 6, (ed. 1776,) thus: