A

'I hae nae houses, I hae nae lands,I hae nae gowd or fee, Sir;I am oer low to be your bryde,Your loon I'll never be, Sir.'

And again Motherwell's MS., p. 37. It is Lady Grey's answer to King Edward in the Third Part of Henry VI, III, 2:

'I know I am too mean to be your queen,And yet too good to be your concubine.'

So Crescentia, the Koloczaer Codex, Mailáth u. Köffinger, p. 260, v. 565 ff.

With regard toB20, 'I'll na put on the dowie green,' Kinloch remarks that green is considered unfortunate in love matters, the couplet running,

Green is love deen,Yellow's forsaken;

whereas blue is looked upon as a most fortunate color: "blue is love true." "To be married in a green colored dress is ominous of misfortune, for according to the proverb:

They that marry in green,Their sorrow is soon seen.

And no young woman in the North would wear that color on her wedding day. An old lady of my acquaintance, whose marriage had proved unfortunate, used seriously to warn young women to beware of being married in green, for she attributed her own misfortunes solely to her having been married in a green gown, which she had put on contrary to the sage advice of her seniors, in whose minds the belief was more firmly rooted, and who had wished her to wear in its stead a blue dress, as being the more lucky color. To dance in green stockings is a proverbial phrase applied to an elder sister when the younger is first married, intimating that she may mourn her hapless fate, as she has now no chance of being married. To dream of green is believed to be the presage of misfortune." Kinloch MSS, I, 15 f.

Ais translated by Bodmer, II, 44, Doenniges, p. 125.D, Percy's copy, by Eschenburg, in Ursinus, Balladen und Lieder, 1777, p. 69; by Bodmer, I, 106; by Talvj, Versuch u. s. w., p. 497; Döring, p. 191; Doenniges, p. 121; Arentsschild, Albion u. Erin, p. 535; von Marées, p. 36; Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 175, No 47; Loève-Veimars, p. 123.

NorseAis translated by W. and M. Howitt, Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, I, 258;Bby Prior, III, 363.

Percy's Reliques, 1765, II, 293, "given, with some corrections, from a MS. copy transmitted from Scotland."

1Lord Thomas and Fair AnnetSate a' day on a hill;Whan night was cum, and sun was sett,They had not talkt their fill.2Lord Thomas said a word in jest,Fair Annet took it ill:'A, I will nevir wed a wifeAgainst my ain friends' will.'3'Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife,A wife wull neir wed yee:'Sae he is hame to tell his mither,And knelt upon his knee.4'O rede, O rede, mither,' he says,'A gude rede gie to mee;O sall I tak the nut-browne bride,And let Faire Annet bee?'5'The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,Fair Annet she has gat nane;And the little beauty Fair Annet haesO it wull soon be gane.'6And he has till his brother gane:'Now, brother, rede ye mee;A, sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,And let Fair Annet bee?'7'The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother,The nut-browne bride has kye;I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride,And cast Fair Annet bye.'8'Her oxen may dye i the house, billie,And her kye into the byre,And I sall hae nothing to mysellBot a fat fadge by the fyre.'9And he has till his sister gane:'Now, sister, rede ye mee;O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,And set Fair Annet free?'10'I'se 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!'11'No, I will tak my mither's counsel,And marrie me owt o hand;And I will tak the nut-browne bride,Fair Annet may leive the land.'12Up then rose Fair Annet's father,Twa hours or it wer day,And he is gane into the bowerWherein Fair Annet lay.13'Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,' he says,'Put on your silken sheene;Let us gae to St. Marie's kirke,And see that rich weddeen.'14'My maides, gae to my dressing-roome,And dress to me my hair;Whaireir yee laid a plait before,See yee lay ten times mair.15'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.'16The horse Fair Annet rade upon,He amblit like the wind;Wi siller he was shod before,Wi burning gowd behind.17Four and twanty siller bellsWer a' tyed till his mane,And yae tift o the norland wind,They tinkled ane by ane.18Four and twanty gay gude knichtsRade by Fair Annet's side,And four and twanty fair ladies,As gin she had bin a bride.19And whan she cam to Marie's kirk,She sat on Marie's stean:The cleading that Fair Annet had onIt skinkled in their een.20And whan she cam into the kirk,She shimmerd like the sun;The belt that was about her waistWas a' wi pearles bedone.21She sat her by the nut-browne bride,And her een they wer sae clear,Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride,Whan Fair Annet drew near.22He had a rose into his hand,He gae it kisses three,And reaching by the nut-browne bride,Laid it on Fair Annet's knee.23Up than spak the nut-browne bride,She spak wi meikle spite:'And whair gat ye that rose-water,That does mak yee sae white?'24'O I did get the rose-waterWhair ye wull neir get nane,For I did get that very rose-waterInto my mither's wame.'25The bride she drew a long bodkinFrae out her gay head-gear,And strake Fair Annet unto the heart,That word spak nevir mair.26Lord Thomas he saw Fair Annet wex pale,And marvelit what mote bee;But whan he saw her dear heart's blude,A' wood-wroth wexed hee.27He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp,That was sae sharp and meet,And drave it into the nut-browne bride,That fell deid at his feit.28'Now stay for me, dear Annet,' he sed,'Now stay, my dear,' he cry'd;Then strake the dagger untill his heart,And fell deid by her side.29Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa,Fair Annet within the quiere,And o the tane thair grew a birk,The other a bonny briere.30And ay they grew, and ay they threw,As they wad faine be neare;And by this ye may ken right weilThey were twa luvers deare.

1Lord Thomas and Fair AnnetSate a' day on a hill;Whan night was cum, and sun was sett,They had not talkt their fill.

2Lord Thomas said a word in jest,Fair Annet took it ill:'A, I will nevir wed a wifeAgainst my ain friends' will.'

3'Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife,A wife wull neir wed yee:'Sae he is hame to tell his mither,And knelt upon his knee.

4'O rede, O rede, mither,' he says,'A gude rede gie to mee;O sall I tak the nut-browne bride,And let Faire Annet bee?'

5'The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,Fair Annet she has gat nane;And the little beauty Fair Annet haesO it wull soon be gane.'

6And he has till his brother gane:'Now, brother, rede ye mee;A, sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,And let Fair Annet bee?'

7'The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother,The nut-browne bride has kye;I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride,And cast Fair Annet bye.'

8'Her oxen may dye i the house, billie,And her kye into the byre,And I sall hae nothing to mysellBot a fat fadge by the fyre.'

9And he has till his sister gane:'Now, sister, rede ye mee;O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,And set Fair Annet free?'

10'I'se 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!'

11'No, I will tak my mither's counsel,And marrie me owt o hand;And I will tak the nut-browne bride,Fair Annet may leive the land.'

12Up then rose Fair Annet's father,Twa hours or it wer day,And he is gane into the bowerWherein Fair Annet lay.

13'Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,' he says,'Put on your silken sheene;Let us gae to St. Marie's kirke,And see that rich weddeen.'

14'My maides, gae to my dressing-roome,And dress to me my hair;Whaireir yee laid a plait before,See yee lay ten times mair.

15'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.'

16The horse Fair Annet rade upon,He amblit like the wind;Wi siller he was shod before,Wi burning gowd behind.

17Four and twanty siller bellsWer a' tyed till his mane,And yae tift o the norland wind,They tinkled ane by ane.

18Four and twanty gay gude knichtsRade by Fair Annet's side,And four and twanty fair ladies,As gin she had bin a bride.

19And whan she cam to Marie's kirk,She sat on Marie's stean:The cleading that Fair Annet had onIt skinkled in their een.

20And whan she cam into the kirk,She shimmerd like the sun;The belt that was about her waistWas a' wi pearles bedone.

21She sat her by the nut-browne bride,And her een they wer sae clear,Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride,Whan Fair Annet drew near.

22He had a rose into his hand,He gae it kisses three,And reaching by the nut-browne bride,Laid it on Fair Annet's knee.

23Up than spak the nut-browne bride,She spak wi meikle spite:'And whair gat ye that rose-water,That does mak yee sae white?'

24'O I did get the rose-waterWhair ye wull neir get nane,For I did get that very rose-waterInto my mither's wame.'

25The bride she drew a long bodkinFrae out her gay head-gear,And strake Fair Annet unto the heart,That word spak nevir mair.

26Lord Thomas he saw Fair Annet wex pale,And marvelit what mote bee;But whan he saw her dear heart's blude,A' wood-wroth wexed hee.

27He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp,That was sae sharp and meet,And drave it into the nut-browne bride,That fell deid at his feit.

28'Now stay for me, dear Annet,' he sed,'Now stay, my dear,' he cry'd;Then strake the dagger untill his heart,And fell deid by her side.

29Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa,Fair Annet within the quiere,And o the tane thair grew a birk,The other a bonny briere.

30And ay they grew, and ay they threw,As they wad faine be neare;And by this ye may ken right weilThey were twa luvers deare.

Kinloch MSS, I, 1, from the recitation of Mary Barr, Lesmahago.

1Sweet Willie and Fair AnnieSat a' day on yon hill;Though they had sat til the leventh o June,They wad na got their fill.2But Willie spak a word amiss,Fair Annie took it ill:'I'll neer marry a tocherless lassAgen my ain friends' will.'3Then on she lap, and awa she gat,As fast as she could hie:'Fare ye weel now, Sweet Willie,It's fare ye weel a wee.'4Then he is gane to his father's ha,And tirled at the pin;Then up and rase his father proud.And loot Sweet Willie in.5'Come riddle us, riddle us, father dear,Yea both of us into ane;Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride hame?'6'The brown bride she has houses and land,And Annie she has nane;Sae on my blessing, my auld son,Bring ye Brown Bride hame.'7Then he is to his mither's bouer,And tirled at the pin;Then up and rose his mother dearTo let Sweet Willie in.8'Come riddle us, riddle us, mother dear,Yea baith o us into ane;Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride hame?'9'The brown bride she has gowd and gear,Fair Annie she has nane;And for my blessing, my auld son,Bring ye Brown Bride hame.'10Then he is to his sister's bouer,And tirled at the pin;And wha sae ready as his sister dearTo let her brither in.11'Come riddle us, riddle us, sister fair,Us baith yea into ane;Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride hame?'12'The brown bride she has horse and kye,And Annie she has nane;But for my love, my brither dear,Bring hame the fair woman.13'Your horse may dee into the staw,The kye into the byre,And ye'll hae nocht but a howther o dirt,To feed about your fire.'14Then he is to Fair Annie's bouer,And tirled at the pin;And wha sae ready as Fair AnnieTo let Sweet Willie in.15'You're welcome here to me, Willie,You're welcome here to me:''I'm na welcome to thee, Annie,I'm na welcome to thee,For I'm come to bid ye to my wedding,It's gey sad news to thee.'16'It's gey sad news to me, Willie,The saddest ye could tell;It's gey sad news to me, Willie,That shoud been bride mysel.'17Then she is to her father gane,And bowed low on her knee:. . . . . . .. . . . . . .18'Come riddle us, riddle us, father dear,Us baith yea into ane;Whether sall I gang to Willie's wedding,Or sall I stay at hame?'19'Whare ane will be your frien, Annie,Twenty will be your fae;''But prove it gude, or prove it bad,To Willie's wedding I'll gae.20'I'll na put on the grisly black,Nor yet the dowie green,But I'll put on a scarlet robeTo sheen like onie queen.'21She's orderd the smiths to the smithy,To shoe her a riding steed;She has orderd tailors to her bouer,To dress her a riding weed.22She has calld her maries to her bour,To lay gowd on her hair:'Whare e'er ye put ae plait before,See ye lay ten times mair.'23The steed Fair Annie rade upon,He bounded like the wind;Wi silver he was shod before,Wi burning gowd behind.24And four and twenty siller bellsWar tiëd til his mane;Wi ae blast o the norland windThey tinkled ane by ane.25And whan she cam unto the place,And lichted on the green,Ilka ane that did her seeThought that she was a queen.26'Is this your bride, Sweet Willie?' she said,'I think she's wondrous wan;Ye micht have had as fair a brideAs eer the sun sheend on.'27'O haud your tongue, Fair Annie,' he said,'Wi your talk let me abee;For better I loe your little fingerThan the brown bride's haill bodie.'28Then out and spak the nut-brown bride,And she spak out of spite:'O whare gat ye the water, Annie,That washd your face sae white?'29'O I gat een the water,' quo she,'Whare ye will neer get nane;It's I gat een the water,' quo she,'Aneath yon marble stane.'30Then out and spake the nut-brown bride,And she spak yet again:'O whare gat ye the claith, Annie,That dried your face sae clean?'31'O I gat een the claith,' quo she,'Whare ye will neer get nane;It's I gat een the claith,' quo she,'Aneath yon bouer o bane.'32The brown bride had a little penknife,Which she kept secret there;She stabbd Fair Annie to the heart,A deep wound and a sair.33It's out and spak he Sweet Willie,And he spak yet again:'O what's the matter wi thee, Annie,That ye do look sae wan?'34'Oh are ye blind, Willie?' she said,'Or do ye no weel see?I think ye micht see my heart's blude,Come rinning by my knee.'35Then Willie took a little sword,Which he kept secret there,And strak the brown bride to the heart,A word she neer spak mair.36And after that a' this was dune,He drew it through the strae,And through his ain fair bodieHe causd the cauld iron gae.37The last words that Sweet Willie spak,His heart was almaist gane;'May never a young man like meHave sic a sad wedding.38'For gear will come, and gear will gang,And gear's ae but a lend,And monie a ane for warld's gearA silly brown bride brings hame.'39Sweet Willie was buried in Mary's kirk,And Annie in Mary's quire,And out o the ane there grew a birk,And out o the ither a brier.40And ae they grew, and ae they threw,Until the twa did meet,That ilka ane micht plainly seeThey were true lovers sweet.

1Sweet Willie and Fair AnnieSat a' day on yon hill;Though they had sat til the leventh o June,They wad na got their fill.

2But Willie spak a word amiss,Fair Annie took it ill:'I'll neer marry a tocherless lassAgen my ain friends' will.'

3Then on she lap, and awa she gat,As fast as she could hie:'Fare ye weel now, Sweet Willie,It's fare ye weel a wee.'

4Then he is gane to his father's ha,And tirled at the pin;Then up and rase his father proud.And loot Sweet Willie in.

5'Come riddle us, riddle us, father dear,Yea both of us into ane;Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride hame?'

6'The brown bride she has houses and land,And Annie she has nane;Sae on my blessing, my auld son,Bring ye Brown Bride hame.'

7Then he is to his mither's bouer,And tirled at the pin;Then up and rose his mother dearTo let Sweet Willie in.

8'Come riddle us, riddle us, mother dear,Yea baith o us into ane;Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride hame?'

9'The brown bride she has gowd and gear,Fair Annie she has nane;And for my blessing, my auld son,Bring ye Brown Bride hame.'

10Then he is to his sister's bouer,And tirled at the pin;And wha sae ready as his sister dearTo let her brither in.

11'Come riddle us, riddle us, sister fair,Us baith yea into ane;Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride hame?'

12'The brown bride she has horse and kye,And Annie she has nane;But for my love, my brither dear,Bring hame the fair woman.

13'Your horse may dee into the staw,The kye into the byre,And ye'll hae nocht but a howther o dirt,To feed about your fire.'

14Then he is to Fair Annie's bouer,And tirled at the pin;And wha sae ready as Fair AnnieTo let Sweet Willie in.

15'You're welcome here to me, Willie,You're welcome here to me:''I'm na welcome to thee, Annie,I'm na welcome to thee,For I'm come to bid ye to my wedding,It's gey sad news to thee.'

16'It's gey sad news to me, Willie,The saddest ye could tell;It's gey sad news to me, Willie,That shoud been bride mysel.'

17Then she is to her father gane,And bowed low on her knee:. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

18'Come riddle us, riddle us, father dear,Us baith yea into ane;Whether sall I gang to Willie's wedding,Or sall I stay at hame?'

19'Whare ane will be your frien, Annie,Twenty will be your fae;''But prove it gude, or prove it bad,To Willie's wedding I'll gae.

20'I'll na put on the grisly black,Nor yet the dowie green,But I'll put on a scarlet robeTo sheen like onie queen.'

21She's orderd the smiths to the smithy,To shoe her a riding steed;She has orderd tailors to her bouer,To dress her a riding weed.

22She has calld her maries to her bour,To lay gowd on her hair:'Whare e'er ye put ae plait before,See ye lay ten times mair.'

23The steed Fair Annie rade upon,He bounded like the wind;Wi silver he was shod before,Wi burning gowd behind.

24And four and twenty siller bellsWar tiëd til his mane;Wi ae blast o the norland windThey tinkled ane by ane.

25And whan she cam unto the place,And lichted on the green,Ilka ane that did her seeThought that she was a queen.

26'Is this your bride, Sweet Willie?' she said,'I think she's wondrous wan;Ye micht have had as fair a brideAs eer the sun sheend on.'

27'O haud your tongue, Fair Annie,' he said,'Wi your talk let me abee;For better I loe your little fingerThan the brown bride's haill bodie.'

28Then out and spak the nut-brown bride,And she spak out of spite:'O whare gat ye the water, Annie,That washd your face sae white?'

29'O I gat een the water,' quo she,'Whare ye will neer get nane;It's I gat een the water,' quo she,'Aneath yon marble stane.'

30Then out and spake the nut-brown bride,And she spak yet again:'O whare gat ye the claith, Annie,That dried your face sae clean?'

31'O I gat een the claith,' quo she,'Whare ye will neer get nane;It's I gat een the claith,' quo she,'Aneath yon bouer o bane.'

32The brown bride had a little penknife,Which she kept secret there;She stabbd Fair Annie to the heart,A deep wound and a sair.

33It's out and spak he Sweet Willie,And he spak yet again:'O what's the matter wi thee, Annie,That ye do look sae wan?'

34'Oh are ye blind, Willie?' she said,'Or do ye no weel see?I think ye micht see my heart's blude,Come rinning by my knee.'

35Then Willie took a little sword,Which he kept secret there,And strak the brown bride to the heart,A word she neer spak mair.

36And after that a' this was dune,He drew it through the strae,And through his ain fair bodieHe causd the cauld iron gae.

37The last words that Sweet Willie spak,His heart was almaist gane;'May never a young man like meHave sic a sad wedding.

38'For gear will come, and gear will gang,And gear's ae but a lend,And monie a ane for warld's gearA silly brown bride brings hame.'

39Sweet Willie was buried in Mary's kirk,And Annie in Mary's quire,And out o the ane there grew a birk,And out o the ither a brier.

40And ae they grew, and ae they threw,Until the twa did meet,That ilka ane micht plainly seeThey were true lovers sweet.

Motherwell's MS., p. 157, from the recitation of Agnes Laird, Kilbarchan, 1825.

1'Come read my rede, O mother dear,Come riddle it all in one;O whether will I take Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride home?'2'The brown, brown bride has kye and ewes,Fair Annie she has none;She has nothing but a bonny, bonny face,And that'll soon be gone.'3'Where will I get a pretty little boy,That'll rin my errands soon,That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,And bid her to my wedding?'4'Here am I, a pretty little boy,That'll rin your errands soon,That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,And bid her to your wedding.'5'Forbid her to put on her silks so black,Or yet her silks so brown;But she must put on her suddled silks,That she wears up and down.6'Forbid her to put on her silks so green,Or yet her silks so gray;But she must put on her suddled silks,That she wears every day.'7When he gade to Fair Annie's bower,He tirled at the pin;So ready was Fair Annie hersellTo open and let him in.8'What news, what news, my little boy?What news hast thou to me?''You must prepare for Lord Thomas' wedding,And that's bad news for thee.'9'Good news, good news,' Fair Annie says,'Good news is it for me,For me to be bride and him bridegroom,And that's good news for me.'10'He forbids thee to put on thy silks so black,Or yet thy silks so brown;But thou must put on thy suddled silks,That thou wears up and down.11'He forbids you to put on thy silks so green,Or yet thy silks so gray;But thou must on thy suddled silks,That thou wears every day.'12'There are smiths into my smiddy-bourThat'll dress to me a steed,There are tailors in my tailor-houseThat'll dress to me a weed.13'There are maidens in my maiden-bowerThat'll lay gold in my hair,And where eer there were ane link before,It shall be nine times mair.'14Then Annie got herself attired,In all things very fine,With red ribbons, and silks so fair,That owre her shoulders shine.15When she came to Lord Thomas' yett,She shined amang them a',And the buttons on Lord Thomas' coatBrusted and brak in twa.16'Brown, brown is your steed,' she says,'But browner is your bride;But gallant is that handkerchyThat hideth her din hide.'17'O hold thy peace, Fair Annie,' he says,'Speak not of that to me,For happy is that bonny, bonny ladThat leads his life with thee.'18Then out bespoke the brown, brown bride,And she spoke out with spite:'O whare gets thou that water-cherry,That washes thee so white?'19'I got in my father's garden,Below an olive tree,And although thou war to seek long seven yearsThat water thou'll never see.20'Tho thou hast got Lord Thomas' handThat water thou'll neer see;For thou's sunbrunt from thy mother's womb,And thou'll never be like me.'* * * * *

1'Come read my rede, O mother dear,Come riddle it all in one;O whether will I take Fair Annie,Or bring the brown bride home?'

2'The brown, brown bride has kye and ewes,Fair Annie she has none;She has nothing but a bonny, bonny face,And that'll soon be gone.'

3'Where will I get a pretty little boy,That'll rin my errands soon,That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,And bid her to my wedding?'

4'Here am I, a pretty little boy,That'll rin your errands soon,That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,And bid her to your wedding.'

5'Forbid her to put on her silks so black,Or yet her silks so brown;But she must put on her suddled silks,That she wears up and down.

6'Forbid her to put on her silks so green,Or yet her silks so gray;But she must put on her suddled silks,That she wears every day.'

7When he gade to Fair Annie's bower,He tirled at the pin;So ready was Fair Annie hersellTo open and let him in.

8'What news, what news, my little boy?What news hast thou to me?''You must prepare for Lord Thomas' wedding,And that's bad news for thee.'

9'Good news, good news,' Fair Annie says,'Good news is it for me,For me to be bride and him bridegroom,And that's good news for me.'

10'He forbids thee to put on thy silks so black,Or yet thy silks so brown;But thou must put on thy suddled silks,That thou wears up and down.

11'He forbids you to put on thy silks so green,Or yet thy silks so gray;But thou must on thy suddled silks,That thou wears every day.'

12'There are smiths into my smiddy-bourThat'll dress to me a steed,There are tailors in my tailor-houseThat'll dress to me a weed.

13'There are maidens in my maiden-bowerThat'll lay gold in my hair,And where eer there were ane link before,It shall be nine times mair.'

14Then Annie got herself attired,In all things very fine,With red ribbons, and silks so fair,That owre her shoulders shine.

15When she came to Lord Thomas' yett,She shined amang them a',And the buttons on Lord Thomas' coatBrusted and brak in twa.

16'Brown, brown is your steed,' she says,'But browner is your bride;But gallant is that handkerchyThat hideth her din hide.'

17'O hold thy peace, Fair Annie,' he says,'Speak not of that to me,For happy is that bonny, bonny ladThat leads his life with thee.'

18Then out bespoke the brown, brown bride,And she spoke out with spite:'O whare gets thou that water-cherry,That washes thee so white?'

19'I got in my father's garden,Below an olive tree,And although thou war to seek long seven yearsThat water thou'll never see.

20'Tho thou hast got Lord Thomas' handThat water thou'll neer see;For thou's sunbrunt from thy mother's womb,And thou'll never be like me.'

* * * * *

a.Pepys Ballads, III, 316, No 312.b.A Collection of Old Ballads, I, 249, 1723.c.Ritson, Select Collection of English Songs, II, 187, 1783.d.Buchan's Gleanings, p. 86.e, f, g, h, i, recited copies.

1Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester,And a chaser of the king's deer;Faire Ellinor was a fair woman,And Lord Thomas he loved her dear.2'Come riddle my riddle, dear mother,' he said,'And riddle us both as one,Whether I shall marry Fair Ellinor,And let the brown girl alone.'3'The brown girl she has got houses and lands,And Fair Ellinor she has got none;Therefore I charge you on my blessingTo bring me the brown girl home.'4And as it befell on a high holidaye,As many did more beside,Lord Thomas he went to Fair Ellinor,That should have been his bride.5But when he came to Fair Ellinor's bower,He knocked there at the ring;But who was so ready as Fair EllinorFor to let Lord Thomas in.6'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 to thee.'7'Oh God forbid, Lord Thomas,' she said,'That such a thing should be done;I thought to have been thy bride my own self,And you to have been the brid's-groom.8'Come riddle my riddle, dear mother,' she sayd,'And riddle it all in one;Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding,Or whether I shall tarry at home.'9'There's many that are your friends, daughter,And many that are your fo;Therefore I charge you on my blessing,To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go.'10'There's many that are my friends, mother,If a thousand more were my foe,Betide my life, betide my death,To Lord Thomas's wedding I'le go.'11She cloathed herself in gallant attyre,And her merry men all in green,And as they rid thorough everye towne,They took her to have been a queene.12But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate,She knocked there at the ring;But who was so ready as Lord ThomasTo lett Fair Ellinor in.13'Is this your bride?' Fair Ellin she sayd,'Methinks she looks wondrous browne;Thou mightest have had as fair a womanAs ever trod on the ground.'14'Despise her not, Fair Ellin,' he sayd,'Despise her not now unto mee;For better I love thy little fingerThan all her whole body.'15This browne bride had a little penknife,That was both long and sharp,And betwixt the short ribs and the longPrickd Fair Ellinor to the heart.16'Oh Christ now save thee,' Lord Thomas he said,'Methinks thou lookst wondrous wan;Thou wast usd for to look with as fresh a colourAs ever the sun shin'd on.'17'Oh art thou blind, Lord Thomas?' she sayd,'Or canst thou not very well see?Oh dost thou not see my own heart's bloodRuns trickling down my knee?'18Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side,As he walked about the hall;He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders,And he threw it against the wall.19He set the hilte against the ground,And the point against his heart;There was never three lovers that ever metMore sooner they did depart.

1Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester,And a chaser of the king's deer;Faire Ellinor was a fair woman,And Lord Thomas he loved her dear.

2'Come riddle my riddle, dear mother,' he said,'And riddle us both as one,Whether I shall marry Fair Ellinor,And let the brown girl alone.'

3'The brown girl she has got houses and lands,And Fair Ellinor she has got none;Therefore I charge you on my blessingTo bring me the brown girl home.'

4And as it befell on a high holidaye,As many did more beside,Lord Thomas he went to Fair Ellinor,That should have been his bride.

5But when he came to Fair Ellinor's bower,He knocked there at the ring;But who was so ready as Fair EllinorFor to let Lord Thomas in.

6'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 to thee.'

7'Oh God forbid, Lord Thomas,' she said,'That such a thing should be done;I thought to have been thy bride my own self,And you to have been the brid's-groom.

8'Come riddle my riddle, dear mother,' she sayd,'And riddle it all in one;Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding,Or whether I shall tarry at home.'

9'There's many that are your friends, daughter,And many that are your fo;Therefore I charge you on my blessing,To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go.'

10'There's many that are my friends, mother,If a thousand more were my foe,Betide my life, betide my death,To Lord Thomas's wedding I'le go.'

11She cloathed herself in gallant attyre,And her merry men all in green,And as they rid thorough everye towne,They took her to have been a queene.

12But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate,She knocked there at the ring;But who was so ready as Lord ThomasTo lett Fair Ellinor in.

13'Is this your bride?' Fair Ellin she sayd,'Methinks she looks wondrous browne;Thou mightest have had as fair a womanAs ever trod on the ground.'

14'Despise her not, Fair Ellin,' he sayd,'Despise her not now unto mee;For better I love thy little fingerThan all her whole body.'

15This browne bride had a little penknife,That was both long and sharp,And betwixt the short ribs and the longPrickd Fair Ellinor to the heart.

16'Oh Christ now save thee,' Lord Thomas he said,'Methinks thou lookst wondrous wan;Thou wast usd for to look with as fresh a colourAs ever the sun shin'd on.'

17'Oh art thou blind, Lord Thomas?' she sayd,'Or canst thou not very well see?Oh dost thou not see my own heart's bloodRuns trickling down my knee?'

18Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side,As he walked about the hall;He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders,And he threw it against the wall.

19He set the hilte against the ground,And the point against his heart;There was never three lovers that ever metMore sooner they did depart.

Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 22, from the recitation of Mrs W. Arrot, of Aberbrothick, as learned by her when a child from an elderly maid-servant.

1Sweet Willie and Fair AnnieSat a' day on a hill,And though they had sitten seven year,They neer wad had their fill.2Sweet Willie said a word in haste,And Annie took it ill:'I winna wed a tocherless maid,Against my parents' will.'3'Ye're come o the rich, Willie,And I'm come o the poor;I'm oer laigh to be your bride,And I winna be your whore.'4O Annie she's gane till her bower,And Willie down the den,And he's come till his mither's bower,By the lei light o the moon.5'O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?' he says,'Or are ye the bower within?''I sleep richt aft, I wake richt aft;What want ye wi me, son?6'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.7'There is twa maidens in a bower;Which o them sall I bring hame?The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows,And Fair Annie has nane.'8'It's an ye wed the nut-brown maid,I'll heap gold wi my hand;But an ye wed her Fair Annie,I'll straik it wi a wand.9'The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows,And Fair Annie has nane;And Willie, for my benison,The nut-brown maid bring hame.'10'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.11'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.'12'Alas, alas!' says Sweet Willie,'But white is Annie's hand!''But what's the matter, my son Willie?She hasna a fur o land.'13'Sheep will die in cots, mither,And owsen die in byre;And what's this warld's wealth to me,An I get na my heart's desire?14'Whare will I get a bonny boy,That wad fain win hose and shoon,That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,Wi the lei light o the moon?15'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.16'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.'17He is on to Annie's bower,And tirled at the pin,And wha was sae ready as Annie herselTo open and let him in.18'Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin,The morn at twal at noon;Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin,The heir of Duplin town.19'Ye manna put on the black, the black,Nor yet the dowie brown,But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white,And your bonny locks hangin down.'20'It's I will come to Willie's weddin,The morn at twal at noon;It's I will come to Willie's weddin,But I rather the mass had been mine.21'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.22'Taylors, to my bower come,And mak to me a weed;And smiths, unto my stable come,And shoe to me a steed.'23At every tate o Annie's horse maneThere hang a silver bell,And there came a wind out frae the south,Which made them a' to knell.24And whan she came to Mary-kirk,And sat down in the deas,The light that came frae Fair AnnieEnlightend a' the place.25But 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 ee?''O this is Willie's first true-love,Before he loved thee.'26'If that be Willie's first true-love,He might hae latten me be;She has as much gold on ae fingerAs I'll wear till I die.27'O whare got ye that water, Annie,That washes you sae white?''I got it in my mither's wambe,Whare ye'll neer get the like.28'For ye've been washd in Dunny's well,And dried on Dunny's dyke,And a' the water in the seaWill never wash ye white.'29Willie's taen a rose out o his hat,Laid it in Annie's lap:. . . . . . .'Hae, wear it for my sake.'30'Tak up and wear your rose, Willie,And wear't wi mickle care;For the woman sall never bear a sonThat will make my heart sae sair.'31Whan night was come, and day was gane,And a' man boun to bed,Sweet Willie and the nut-brown brideIn their chamber were laid.32They werena weel lyen down,And scarcely fa'n asleep,Whan up and stands she Fair Annie,Just up at Willie's feet.33'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.34'Weel brook ye o your brown, brown bride,Between ye and the stock;And sae will I o my black, black kist,That has neither key nor lock.'35Sad Willie raise, put on his claise,Drew till him his hose and shoon,And he is on to Annie's bower,By the lei light o the moon.36The firsten bower that he came till,There was right dowie wark;Her mither and her three sistersWere makin to Annie a sark.37The nexten bower that he came till,There was right dowie cheir;Her father and her seven brethrenWere makin to Annie a bier.38The lasten bower that he came till,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .And Fair Annie streekit there.39He's lifted up the coverlet,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .40'It's I will kiss your bonny cheek,And I will kiss your chin,And I will kiss your clay-cald lip,But I'll never kiss woman again.41'The day ye deal at Annie's burialThe bread but and the wine;Before the morn at twall o'clock,They'll deal the same at mine.'42The 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.43And ay they grew, and ay they drew,Untill they twa did meet,And every ane that past them bySaid, Thae's been lovers sweet!

1Sweet Willie and Fair AnnieSat a' day on a hill,And though they had sitten seven year,They neer wad had their fill.

2Sweet Willie said a word in haste,And Annie took it ill:'I winna wed a tocherless maid,Against my parents' will.'

3'Ye're come o the rich, Willie,And I'm come o the poor;I'm oer laigh to be your bride,And I winna be your whore.'

4O Annie she's gane till her bower,And Willie down the den,And he's come till his mither's bower,By the lei light o the moon.

5'O sleep ye, wake ye, mither?' he says,'Or are ye the bower within?''I sleep richt aft, I wake richt aft;What want ye wi me, son?

6'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.

7'There is twa maidens in a bower;Which o them sall I bring hame?The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows,And Fair Annie has nane.'

8'It's an ye wed the nut-brown maid,I'll heap gold wi my hand;But an ye wed her Fair Annie,I'll straik it wi a wand.

9'The nut-brown maid has sheep and cows,And Fair Annie has nane;And Willie, for my benison,The nut-brown maid bring hame.'

10'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.

11'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.'

12'Alas, alas!' says Sweet Willie,'But white is Annie's hand!''But what's the matter, my son Willie?She hasna a fur o land.'

13'Sheep will die in cots, mither,And owsen die in byre;And what's this warld's wealth to me,An I get na my heart's desire?

14'Whare will I get a bonny boy,That wad fain win hose and shoon,That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,Wi the lei light o the moon?

15'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.

16'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.'

17He is on to Annie's bower,And tirled at the pin,And wha was sae ready as Annie herselTo open and let him in.

18'Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin,The morn at twal at noon;Ye are bidden come to Willie's weddin,The heir of Duplin town.

19'Ye manna put on the black, the black,Nor yet the dowie brown,But the scarlet sae red, and the kerches sae white,And your bonny locks hangin down.'

20'It's I will come to Willie's weddin,The morn at twal at noon;It's I will come to Willie's weddin,But I rather the mass had been mine.

21'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.

22'Taylors, to my bower come,And mak to me a weed;And smiths, unto my stable come,And shoe to me a steed.'

23At every tate o Annie's horse maneThere hang a silver bell,And there came a wind out frae the south,Which made them a' to knell.

24And whan she came to Mary-kirk,And sat down in the deas,The light that came frae Fair AnnieEnlightend a' the place.

25But 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 ee?''O this is Willie's first true-love,Before he loved thee.'

26'If that be Willie's first true-love,He might hae latten me be;She has as much gold on ae fingerAs I'll wear till I die.

27'O whare got ye that water, Annie,That washes you sae white?''I got it in my mither's wambe,Whare ye'll neer get the like.

28'For ye've been washd in Dunny's well,And dried on Dunny's dyke,And a' the water in the seaWill never wash ye white.'

29Willie's taen a rose out o his hat,Laid it in Annie's lap:. . . . . . .'Hae, wear it for my sake.'

30'Tak up and wear your rose, Willie,And wear't wi mickle care;For the woman sall never bear a sonThat will make my heart sae sair.'

31Whan night was come, and day was gane,And a' man boun to bed,Sweet Willie and the nut-brown brideIn their chamber were laid.

32They werena weel lyen down,And scarcely fa'n asleep,Whan up and stands she Fair Annie,Just up at Willie's feet.

33'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.

34'Weel brook ye o your brown, brown bride,Between ye and the stock;And sae will I o my black, black kist,That has neither key nor lock.'

35Sad Willie raise, put on his claise,Drew till him his hose and shoon,And he is on to Annie's bower,By the lei light o the moon.

36The firsten bower that he came till,There was right dowie wark;Her mither and her three sistersWere makin to Annie a sark.

37The nexten bower that he came till,There was right dowie cheir;Her father and her seven brethrenWere makin to Annie a bier.

38The lasten bower that he came till,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .And Fair Annie streekit there.

39He's lifted up the coverlet,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

40'It's I will kiss your bonny cheek,And I will kiss your chin,And I will kiss your clay-cald lip,But I'll never kiss woman again.

41'The day ye deal at Annie's burialThe bread but and the wine;Before the morn at twall o'clock,They'll deal the same at mine.'

42The 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.

43And ay they grew, and ay they drew,Untill they twa did meet,And every ane that past them bySaid, Thae's been lovers sweet!

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