G

Kinloch MSS, III, 127, stanzas 1-17; the remainder in Dr John Hill Burton's papers. Another copy in Kinloch MSS, V, 339. Both in Dr Burton's handwriting.

1Sweet Willie and Fair Annie,As they sat on yon hill,If they hed sat frae morn till even,They hed no talked their fill.* * * * *2Willie's dune him hame again,As fast as gang could he:'An askin, an askin, my mother,And I pray ye'll grant it me.3'Oh will I merry the nut-brown maid,Wi her oxen and her kye?Or will I merry my Fair Annie,That hes my heart for aye?'4'Oh if ye merry your Fair Annie,Your mither's malison you'll wun;But if ye merry the nut-brown may,Ye will get her blessin.'5'Oh voe's me, mother,' Willie said,'For Annie's bonny face!''Little metter o that, my son Willie,When Annie hesna grace.'6'Oh voe's me, mither,' Willie said,'For Annie's bonny han!''And what's the metter, son Willie,When Annie hesna lan?7'But ye will merry the nut-brown may,Wi her oxen and her kye;But ye will merry the nut-brown may,For she hes my hert for aye.'8Out and spak his sister Jane,Where she sat be the fire:'What's the metter, brother Willie?Tack ye your heart's desire.9'The oxen may die into the pleuch,The cow drown i the myre;And what's the metter, brother Willie?Tak ye your heart's desire.'10'Whare will I get a bonny boy,That will wun hose and shune,That will run on to Anny's bower,And come right sune again?'11'Ye'll bid her come to Willie's weddin,The morn is the day;Ye'll bid her come to Willie's weddin,And no make no delay.12'Ye'll forbid her to put on the black, the black,Or yet the dowie brown;But the white silk and the reed skarlet,That will shine frae town to town.'13He is on to Anie's bower,And tirled at the pin,And wha was sae ready as Annie herselTo let the ladie in.14'Ye'r bidden to come to Willie's weddin,The morn is the day;Ye'r bidden come to Willie's weddin,And no mack no delay.15'Ye'r forbidden to put on the black, the black,Or yet the dowie brown;But the white silk and the red scarlet,That will shine frae town to town.16'Ye'r forbidden to put on the black, the black,Or yet the dowie gray;But the white silk and the red scarlet,That will shine frae brae to brae.'17'It's I will come to Willie's weddin,Gif the morn be the day;It's I will come to Willie's weddin,And no mack no delay.'18Annie's steed was silver shod,And golden graithed behin;At every teet o her horse maneA silver bell did ring.19When Annie was in her sadle set,She glanced like the moon;There was as much gould abov her browWould buy an earldom.20When Annie was on her sadel set,She glanced like the fire;There was as much gould above her browWas worth a yearl's hire.21Annie gaed in the heigh, heigh hill,And Willie the dowie glen;Annie alane shone brighterThan Willie and a' his men.22'Oh wha is that, my ane Willie,That glances in your ee?''Oh it is Annie, my first fore love,Come till see you and me.'23'Oh far got ye that water, Annie,That washes ye so wan?''Oh I got it aneth yon marble stane,Where ye will nere get nane.24'Ye've been brunt sare anent the sun,And rocket i the reek;And tho ye wad wash till doom's day,Ye wad never be so white.'25'If this be Annie, your first fore love,Come our weddin to see,She has by far owr brent a browTo lat ye bide by me.'26When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And a' men bun to bed,Sweet Willie and his nut-brown brideIn ae chamber were laid.27The hedna weel layn down, layn down,But nor hed fallen asleep,When up and started Fair Annie,And stud at Willie's feet.28'Vo be to you, nut-brown bride,Wi yer oxen and your sheep!It is Annie, my first fore love,And I fear sair she is dead.29'Vo be te you, nut-brown bride,An ill death you betide!For you've parted me and my first fore love,And I fear death is her guide.30'You'll seddle to me the black, the black,You'll seddle to me the brown,Till I ride on to Annie's bowerAnd see how she is bune.'31When he came to Fair Annie's bower,And lighted and gaed in,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .32Her father was at her heed, her heed,Her mother at her feet,Her sister she was at her side,Puttin on her winding sheet.33'It's kiss will I yer cheek, Annie,And kiss will I your chin,And I will kiss your wan, wan lips,Tho there be no breath within.34'Ye birl, ye birle at my luve's wakeThe white bread and the wine,And or the morn at this same timeYe'll birle the same at mine.'35They birled, they birled at Annies wakeThe white bread and the wine,And ere the morn at that same timeAt his they birled the same.36The one was buried at Mary's kirk,The other at Mary's quire,And throw the one there sprang a birk,And throw the other a brier.37And ay at every year's aneThey grew them near and nearAnd every one that passed them bySaid, They be lovers dear.

1Sweet Willie and Fair Annie,As they sat on yon hill,If they hed sat frae morn till even,They hed no talked their fill.

* * * * *

2Willie's dune him hame again,As fast as gang could he:'An askin, an askin, my mother,And I pray ye'll grant it me.

3'Oh will I merry the nut-brown maid,Wi her oxen and her kye?Or will I merry my Fair Annie,That hes my heart for aye?'

4'Oh if ye merry your Fair Annie,Your mither's malison you'll wun;But if ye merry the nut-brown may,Ye will get her blessin.'

5'Oh voe's me, mother,' Willie said,'For Annie's bonny face!''Little metter o that, my son Willie,When Annie hesna grace.'

6'Oh voe's me, mither,' Willie said,'For Annie's bonny han!''And what's the metter, son Willie,When Annie hesna lan?

7'But ye will merry the nut-brown may,Wi her oxen and her kye;But ye will merry the nut-brown may,For she hes my hert for aye.'

8Out and spak his sister Jane,Where she sat be the fire:'What's the metter, brother Willie?Tack ye your heart's desire.

9'The oxen may die into the pleuch,The cow drown i the myre;And what's the metter, brother Willie?Tak ye your heart's desire.'

10'Whare will I get a bonny boy,That will wun hose and shune,That will run on to Anny's bower,And come right sune again?'

11'Ye'll bid her come to Willie's weddin,The morn is the day;Ye'll bid her come to Willie's weddin,And no make no delay.

12'Ye'll forbid her to put on the black, the black,Or yet the dowie brown;But the white silk and the reed skarlet,That will shine frae town to town.'

13He is on to Anie's bower,And tirled at the pin,And wha was sae ready as Annie herselTo let the ladie in.

14'Ye'r bidden to come to Willie's weddin,The morn is the day;Ye'r bidden come to Willie's weddin,And no mack no delay.

15'Ye'r forbidden to put on the black, the black,Or yet the dowie brown;But the white silk and the red scarlet,That will shine frae town to town.

16'Ye'r forbidden to put on the black, the black,Or yet the dowie gray;But the white silk and the red scarlet,That will shine frae brae to brae.'

17'It's I will come to Willie's weddin,Gif the morn be the day;It's I will come to Willie's weddin,And no mack no delay.'

18Annie's steed was silver shod,And golden graithed behin;At every teet o her horse maneA silver bell did ring.

19When Annie was in her sadle set,She glanced like the moon;There was as much gould abov her browWould buy an earldom.

20When Annie was on her sadel set,She glanced like the fire;There was as much gould above her browWas worth a yearl's hire.

21Annie gaed in the heigh, heigh hill,And Willie the dowie glen;Annie alane shone brighterThan Willie and a' his men.

22'Oh wha is that, my ane Willie,That glances in your ee?''Oh it is Annie, my first fore love,Come till see you and me.'

23'Oh far got ye that water, Annie,That washes ye so wan?''Oh I got it aneth yon marble stane,Where ye will nere get nane.

24'Ye've been brunt sare anent the sun,And rocket i the reek;And tho ye wad wash till doom's day,Ye wad never be so white.'

25'If this be Annie, your first fore love,Come our weddin to see,She has by far owr brent a browTo lat ye bide by me.'

26When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And a' men bun to bed,Sweet Willie and his nut-brown brideIn ae chamber were laid.

27The hedna weel layn down, layn down,But nor hed fallen asleep,When up and started Fair Annie,And stud at Willie's feet.

28'Vo be to you, nut-brown bride,Wi yer oxen and your sheep!It is Annie, my first fore love,And I fear sair she is dead.

29'Vo be te you, nut-brown bride,An ill death you betide!For you've parted me and my first fore love,And I fear death is her guide.

30'You'll seddle to me the black, the black,You'll seddle to me the brown,Till I ride on to Annie's bowerAnd see how she is bune.'

31When he came to Fair Annie's bower,And lighted and gaed in,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

32Her father was at her heed, her heed,Her mother at her feet,Her sister she was at her side,Puttin on her winding sheet.

33'It's kiss will I yer cheek, Annie,And kiss will I your chin,And I will kiss your wan, wan lips,Tho there be no breath within.

34'Ye birl, ye birle at my luve's wakeThe white bread and the wine,And or the morn at this same timeYe'll birle the same at mine.'

35They birled, they birled at Annies wakeThe white bread and the wine,And ere the morn at that same timeAt his they birled the same.

36The one was buried at Mary's kirk,The other at Mary's quire,And throw the one there sprang a birk,And throw the other a brier.

37And ay at every year's aneThey grew them near and nearAnd every one that passed them bySaid, They be lovers dear.

Skene MS., p. 104; northeast of Scotland, 1802-03.

1Sweet Willie and Fair Annë,They sat on yon hill,And frae the morning till nightThis twa neer talked their fill.2Willie spak a word in jest,And Annë took it ill:'We's court na mare maidens,Against our parents' will.'3'It's na against our parents' will,'Fair Annie she did say,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .4Willie is hame to his bower,To his book all alane,And Fair Annie is to her bower,To her book and her seam.5Sweet Willie is to his mother dear,Fell low down on his knee:'An asking, my mother dear,And ye grant it to me;O will I marry the nut-brown may,An lat Fair Annie gae?'6'The nut-brown may has ousen, Willie,The nut-brown may has key;An ye will winn my blessing, Willie,And latt Fair Annie be.'7He did him to his father dear,Fell low down on his knee:'An asking, my father,An ye man grant it me.'8'Ask on, my ae son Willie,Ye'r sur yer askin's free;Except it is to marry her Fair Annie,And that manna be.'9Out spak his little sister,As she [sat] by the fire:'The ox-leg will brack in the plough,And the cow will drown in the mire.10'An Willie will ha nathingBut the dam to sitt by the fire;Fair Annie will sit in her beagly bower,An winn a earl's hire.'11'Fair faa ye, my little sister,A guid dead mat ye die!An ever I hae goud,Well tochered sall ye be.'12He's awa to Fair Annie,As fast as gan could he:'O will ye come to my marriage?The morn it is to be.'13'O I will come to yer marriage,The morn, gin I can win.'. . . . . . .. . . . . . .14Annie did her to her father dear,Fell low down on her knee:'An askin, my father,And ye man grant it me;Lat me to Sweet Willie's marriage,The morn it is to be.'15'Yer horse sall be siller shod afore,An guid red goud ahin,An bells in his mane,To ring against the win.'16She did her to her mother dear,Fell low down on her knee:'Will ye lat me to Willie's marriage?The morn it is to be;''I'll lat ye to Willie's marriage,An we the morn see.'17Whan Annie was in her saddle setShe flam'd against the fire;The girdle about her sma middleWad a won an earl's hire.18Whan they came to Mary kirk,And on to Mary quire,'O far gat ye that watter, Ann,That washes ye sae clear?'19'I got it in my father's garden,Aneth a marbell stane;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .20'O whar gat ye that water, Annie,That washes ye sae fite?''I gat it in my mother's womb,Whar ye['s] never get the like.21'For ye ha been christned wi moss-water,An roked in the reak,An ser brunt in yer mither's womb,For I think ye'll neer be fite.'22The nut-brown bride pat her hand in... at Annie['s] left ear,And gin her ...A deep wound and a sare.23Than. . Annie ged on her horse back,An fast away did ride,But lang or cock's crowing,Fair Annie was dead.24Whan bells were rung, and mess was sung,An a' man boun to bed,Sweet Willie and the nut-brown brideIn a chamber were laid.25But up und wakend him Sweet WillieOut of his dreary dream:'I dreamed a dream this night,God read a' dream to guid!26'That Fair Annies bowr was full of gentlemen,An herself was dead;But I will on to Fair Annie,An si't if it be guid.'27Seven lang mile or he came near,He heard a dolefull chear,Her father and her seven brithern,Walking at her bier;The half of it guid red goud,The other silver clear.28'Ye deal at my love's leakThe white bread an the wine;But on the morn at this timeYe's dee the like at mine.'29The ane was buried at Mary kirk,The ither at Mary quire;Out of the ane grew a birk,Out of the ither a briar.30An aye the langer that they grew,They came the ither near,An by that ye might a well kentThey were twa lovers dear.

1Sweet Willie and Fair Annë,They sat on yon hill,And frae the morning till nightThis twa neer talked their fill.

2Willie spak a word in jest,And Annë took it ill:'We's court na mare maidens,Against our parents' will.'

3'It's na against our parents' will,'Fair Annie she did say,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

4Willie is hame to his bower,To his book all alane,And Fair Annie is to her bower,To her book and her seam.

5Sweet Willie is to his mother dear,Fell low down on his knee:'An asking, my mother dear,And ye grant it to me;O will I marry the nut-brown may,An lat Fair Annie gae?'

6'The nut-brown may has ousen, Willie,The nut-brown may has key;An ye will winn my blessing, Willie,And latt Fair Annie be.'

7He did him to his father dear,Fell low down on his knee:'An asking, my father,An ye man grant it me.'

8'Ask on, my ae son Willie,Ye'r sur yer askin's free;Except it is to marry her Fair Annie,And that manna be.'

9Out spak his little sister,As she [sat] by the fire:'The ox-leg will brack in the plough,And the cow will drown in the mire.

10'An Willie will ha nathingBut the dam to sitt by the fire;Fair Annie will sit in her beagly bower,An winn a earl's hire.'

11'Fair faa ye, my little sister,A guid dead mat ye die!An ever I hae goud,Well tochered sall ye be.'

12He's awa to Fair Annie,As fast as gan could he:'O will ye come to my marriage?The morn it is to be.'

13'O I will come to yer marriage,The morn, gin I can win.'. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

14Annie did her to her father dear,Fell low down on her knee:'An askin, my father,And ye man grant it me;Lat me to Sweet Willie's marriage,The morn it is to be.'

15'Yer horse sall be siller shod afore,An guid red goud ahin,An bells in his mane,To ring against the win.'

16She did her to her mother dear,Fell low down on her knee:'Will ye lat me to Willie's marriage?The morn it is to be;''I'll lat ye to Willie's marriage,An we the morn see.'

17Whan Annie was in her saddle setShe flam'd against the fire;The girdle about her sma middleWad a won an earl's hire.

18Whan they came to Mary kirk,And on to Mary quire,'O far gat ye that watter, Ann,That washes ye sae clear?'

19'I got it in my father's garden,Aneth a marbell stane;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

20'O whar gat ye that water, Annie,That washes ye sae fite?''I gat it in my mother's womb,Whar ye['s] never get the like.

21'For ye ha been christned wi moss-water,An roked in the reak,An ser brunt in yer mither's womb,For I think ye'll neer be fite.'

22The nut-brown bride pat her hand in... at Annie['s] left ear,And gin her ...A deep wound and a sare.

23Than. . Annie ged on her horse back,An fast away did ride,But lang or cock's crowing,Fair Annie was dead.

24Whan bells were rung, and mess was sung,An a' man boun to bed,Sweet Willie and the nut-brown brideIn a chamber were laid.

25But up und wakend him Sweet WillieOut of his dreary dream:'I dreamed a dream this night,God read a' dream to guid!

26'That Fair Annies bowr was full of gentlemen,An herself was dead;But I will on to Fair Annie,An si't if it be guid.'

27Seven lang mile or he came near,He heard a dolefull chear,Her father and her seven brithern,Walking at her bier;The half of it guid red goud,The other silver clear.

28'Ye deal at my love's leakThe white bread an the wine;But on the morn at this timeYe's dee the like at mine.'

29The ane was buried at Mary kirk,The ither at Mary quire;Out of the ane grew a birk,Out of the ither a briar.

30An aye the langer that they grew,They came the ither near,An by that ye might a well kentThey were twa lovers dear.

Gibb MS., p. 64.

1Fair Annie and Sweet Willie,As they talked on yon hill,Though they had talked a lang summer day,They wad na hae talked their fill.2'If you would be a good woman, Annie,An low leave a' your pride,In spite of a' my friends, Annie,I wad mak you my bride.'3'Thick, thick lie your lands, Willie,An thin, thin lie mine;An little wad a' your friends thinkO sic a kin as mine.4'Thick, thick lie your lands, Willie,Down by the coving-tree;An little wad a' your friends thinkO sic a bride as me.5'O Fair Annie, O Fair Annie,This nicht ye've said me no;But lang or ever this day monthI'll make your heart as sore.'6It's Willie he went home that night,An a sick man lay he down;An ben came Willie's auld mither,An for nae gude she came.* * * * *7'It's if ye marry Fair Annie,My malison ye's hae;But if ye marry the nut-brown may,My blessin an ye's hae.'8'Mother, for your malison,An mother, for your wis,It's I will marry the nut-brown may,. . . . . . .9. . . . . . .. . . . . . .It's up an spak his sister,. . . . . . .10'The owsen may hang in the pleugh,The kye drown in the myre,An he'll hae naething but a dirty drabTo sit doun by the fire.'* * * * *11'Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will rin on to Annie's bower,An haste him back again?'12'It's I have run your errands, Willie,An happy hae I been;It's I will rin your errands, Willie,Wi the saut tears in my een.'13'When ye come to Annie's bower,She will be at her dine;And bid her come to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time.14'Tell her neither to put on the dowie black,Nor yet the mournfu brown,But the gowd sae reed, and the silver white,An her hair weel combed down.15'Tell her to get a tailor to her bower,To shape for her a weed,And a smith to her smithy,To shoe for her a steed.16'To be shod wi silver clear afore,An gold graithed behind,An every foot the foal sets down,The gold lie on the ground.'17It's when he came to Annie's bower,It's she was at her dine:'Ye're bidden come to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time.18'You're neither to put on the dowie black,Nor get the mournfu brown,But the gowd sae reid, an the silver white,An yere hair well combed doun.19'You're to get a tailor to your bower,To shape for you a weed,And likewise a smith to your smithy,To shoe for you a steed.20'To be shod with silver clear afore,An gold graithed behind,An every foot the foal sets down,The gold lie on the ground.'21'It's I will come to Willie's weddin,I rather it had been mine;It's I will come to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time.22'It's I'll send to Willie a toweld silk,To hing below his knee.An ilka time he looks on it,He'll hae gude mind o me.* * * * *23'An askin, father, an askin,An I hope you will grant me;For it is the last askinThat ever I'll ask of thee.'24'Ask me, Annie, gold,' he said,'An ask me, Annie, fee,But dinna ask me Sweet Willie,Your bedfellow to be.'25'It's I will ask you gold, father,Sae will I ask you fee,But I needna ask you Sweet Willie,My bedfellow to be.26'For I am bidden to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .* * * * *27On every tait o her horse's maneA siller bell did hing,An on every tait o her horse's tailA golden bell did ring.28Twal and twal rade her afore,An twal an twal ahind,An twal an twal on every side,To hold her frae the wind.29Fair Annie shined mair on the top o the hillThan Willie did in the glen;Fair Annie shined mair on the heid o the hillThan Willie wi a' his men.30Whan she came to Mary's kirk,She lighted on the stane;An when she came to the kirk-door,She bade the bride gae in.31'Clear, clear is your day, Willie,But brown, brown is your bride;Clear, clear is her lawn curches,But weel dunned is her hide.'32'Where got ye yon water, Annie,That has made you so white?''I got it in my father's garden,Below yon hollan dyke.33'But ye hae been washed i the moss water,An rocked in the reek;Ye hae been brunt in your mither's wame,An ye will neer be white.'34'Whatna fool were ye, Willie,To lay your love on me;She's mair gowd on her heid this dayThan I'll wear till I die!'35'I've laid nae love on you, brown may,I've laid nae love on you;I've mair love for Fair Annie this dayThan I'll hae for you till I dee.'* * * * *36'If you will neither eat nor drink,You'll see good game an play;'But she turned her horse head to the hill,An swift she rode away.* * * * *37When they were all at supper set,. . . . . . .Till he went to Fair Annie's bower,By the ley licht o the mune.38An when he came to Annie's bower,Annie was lying deid,An seven o Annie's sisters an sisters' bairnsWere sewing at Annie's weed.39'It's I will take your hand, Annie,Since ye wald neer take mine;The woman shall never have the handThat I'll touch after thine.40'An I will kiss your mouth, Annie,Since ye will never kiss mine;The woman shall never have the lipsThat I'll kiss after thine.* * * * *41. . . . . . .. . . . . . .'As much breid ye deal at Annie's dairgieTomorrow ye's deal at mine.'

1Fair Annie and Sweet Willie,As they talked on yon hill,Though they had talked a lang summer day,They wad na hae talked their fill.

2'If you would be a good woman, Annie,An low leave a' your pride,In spite of a' my friends, Annie,I wad mak you my bride.'

3'Thick, thick lie your lands, Willie,An thin, thin lie mine;An little wad a' your friends thinkO sic a kin as mine.

4'Thick, thick lie your lands, Willie,Down by the coving-tree;An little wad a' your friends thinkO sic a bride as me.

5'O Fair Annie, O Fair Annie,This nicht ye've said me no;But lang or ever this day monthI'll make your heart as sore.'

6It's Willie he went home that night,An a sick man lay he down;An ben came Willie's auld mither,An for nae gude she came.

* * * * *

7'It's if ye marry Fair Annie,My malison ye's hae;But if ye marry the nut-brown may,My blessin an ye's hae.'

8'Mother, for your malison,An mother, for your wis,It's I will marry the nut-brown may,. . . . . . .

9. . . . . . .. . . . . . .It's up an spak his sister,. . . . . . .

10'The owsen may hang in the pleugh,The kye drown in the myre,An he'll hae naething but a dirty drabTo sit doun by the fire.'

* * * * *

11'Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will rin on to Annie's bower,An haste him back again?'

12'It's I have run your errands, Willie,An happy hae I been;It's I will rin your errands, Willie,Wi the saut tears in my een.'

13'When ye come to Annie's bower,She will be at her dine;And bid her come to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time.

14'Tell her neither to put on the dowie black,Nor yet the mournfu brown,But the gowd sae reed, and the silver white,An her hair weel combed down.

15'Tell her to get a tailor to her bower,To shape for her a weed,And a smith to her smithy,To shoe for her a steed.

16'To be shod wi silver clear afore,An gold graithed behind,An every foot the foal sets down,The gold lie on the ground.'

17It's when he came to Annie's bower,It's she was at her dine:'Ye're bidden come to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time.

18'You're neither to put on the dowie black,Nor get the mournfu brown,But the gowd sae reid, an the silver white,An yere hair well combed doun.

19'You're to get a tailor to your bower,To shape for you a weed,And likewise a smith to your smithy,To shoe for you a steed.

20'To be shod with silver clear afore,An gold graithed behind,An every foot the foal sets down,The gold lie on the ground.'

21'It's I will come to Willie's weddin,I rather it had been mine;It's I will come to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time.

22'It's I'll send to Willie a toweld silk,To hing below his knee.An ilka time he looks on it,He'll hae gude mind o me.

* * * * *

23'An askin, father, an askin,An I hope you will grant me;For it is the last askinThat ever I'll ask of thee.'

24'Ask me, Annie, gold,' he said,'An ask me, Annie, fee,But dinna ask me Sweet Willie,Your bedfellow to be.'

25'It's I will ask you gold, father,Sae will I ask you fee,But I needna ask you Sweet Willie,My bedfellow to be.

26'For I am bidden to Willie's weddin,On Monday in good time,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

* * * * *

27On every tait o her horse's maneA siller bell did hing,An on every tait o her horse's tailA golden bell did ring.

28Twal and twal rade her afore,An twal an twal ahind,An twal an twal on every side,To hold her frae the wind.

29Fair Annie shined mair on the top o the hillThan Willie did in the glen;Fair Annie shined mair on the heid o the hillThan Willie wi a' his men.

30Whan she came to Mary's kirk,She lighted on the stane;An when she came to the kirk-door,She bade the bride gae in.

31'Clear, clear is your day, Willie,But brown, brown is your bride;Clear, clear is her lawn curches,But weel dunned is her hide.'

32'Where got ye yon water, Annie,That has made you so white?''I got it in my father's garden,Below yon hollan dyke.

33'But ye hae been washed i the moss water,An rocked in the reek;Ye hae been brunt in your mither's wame,An ye will neer be white.'

34'Whatna fool were ye, Willie,To lay your love on me;She's mair gowd on her heid this dayThan I'll wear till I die!'

35'I've laid nae love on you, brown may,I've laid nae love on you;I've mair love for Fair Annie this dayThan I'll hae for you till I dee.'

* * * * *

36'If you will neither eat nor drink,You'll see good game an play;'But she turned her horse head to the hill,An swift she rode away.

* * * * *

37When they were all at supper set,. . . . . . .Till he went to Fair Annie's bower,By the ley licht o the mune.

38An when he came to Annie's bower,Annie was lying deid,An seven o Annie's sisters an sisters' bairnsWere sewing at Annie's weed.

39'It's I will take your hand, Annie,Since ye wald neer take mine;The woman shall never have the handThat I'll touch after thine.

40'An I will kiss your mouth, Annie,Since ye will never kiss mine;The woman shall never have the lipsThat I'll kiss after thine.

* * * * *

41. . . . . . .. . . . . . .'As much breid ye deal at Annie's dairgieTomorrow ye's deal at mine.'

"Some traditionary copies of the ballad have this stanza, which is the 19th in order:

And four and twenty milk-white swans,Wi their wings stretchd out wide,To blaw the stour aff the highway,To let Fair Annie ride."(Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. lxviii, 19.)

Compare'Lord Ingram and Chiel Wyet,'C22.

63, 103. silk.131. The maidens.

63, 103. silk.

131. The maidens.

D. a.

A Tragical Story of Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor. Together with the downfall of the Brown Girl.

34. And bring.91. many of your.94, 121. Thomas his.104. Thomas's his.153. But betwixt.

34. And bring.

91. many of your.

94, 121. Thomas his.

104. Thomas's his.

153. But betwixt.

A Tragical Ballad on the unfortunate Love of Lord Thomas and fair Ellinor, together with the Downfal of the Brown Girl.

13. a fine.23. marry with.31. land.34. Bring me.41. As it.42. many more did.64. for thee.74. bridegroom.91. many that are.94, 104, 121. Thomas's.102. And if.113. through.114. to be some.131. Ellinor said.132. wonderful.133. mightst.142. nowwanting.153. And.163. Thou us'd to look.184. hewanting.193. There never were three lovers met.194. That sooner did.

13. a fine.

23. marry with.

31. land.

34. Bring me.

41. As it.

42. many more did.

64. for thee.

74. bridegroom.

91. many that are.

94, 104, 121. Thomas's.

102. And if.

113. through.

114. to be some.

131. Ellinor said.

132. wonderful.

133. mightst.

142. nowwanting.

153. And.

163. Thou us'd to look.

184. hewanting.

193. There never were three lovers met.

194. That sooner did.

13. a fine.23. marry with.32. Andwanting.33. thee on.34. To bring.54. Forwanting.64. for thee.74. bridegroom.91. many that are.83, 94, 104, 121. Thomases.103. or betide.113. through.133. You might.142. nowwanting.153. And.154. She prickd.162. wain.

13. a fine.

23. marry with.

32. Andwanting.

33. thee on.

34. To bring.

54. Forwanting.

64. for thee.

74. bridegroom.

91. many that are.

83, 94, 104, 121. Thomases.

103. or betide.

113. through.

133. You might.

142. nowwanting.

153. And.

154. She prickd.

162. wain.

32. she's got land, she says.42. many more do.52. at the pin.84. I shall let it alone.92. foes.102. If a thousand were our foes.103. me life, me death.104. To Lord Thomas's I'll go.122. at the pin.After 12:

32. she's got land, she says.

42. many more do.

52. at the pin.

84. I shall let it alone.

92. foes.

102. If a thousand were our foes.

103. me life, me death.

104. To Lord Thomas's I'll go.

122. at the pin.

After 12:

He took her by the lily-white hand,And led her through the hall;He set her in the noblest chair,Among the ladies all.

152. both keen.161. now save me.163. usest to look as good a colour.After 17:

152. both keen.

161. now save me.

163. usest to look as good a colour.

After 17:

'O dig my grave,' Lord Thomas replied,'Dig it both wide and deep,And lay Fair Eleanor by my sideAnd the brown girl at my feet.'

184. And flung.193, 4..

184. And flung.

193, 4..

There never were three lovers sureThat sooner did depart.

Motherwell's MS., p. 293, from the recitation of Widow McCormick, February 23, 1825; learned of an old woman in Dumbarton, thirty years before.

1'Come riddle me, riddle me, mother,' he says,'Come riddle me all in one,Whether I'll goe to court Fair HelenOr fetch you the brown girl home.'2'It's many's the ones your friends,' she says,'And many's the ones your fone;My blessing be on you, dear son,' she says,'Go fetch me the brown girl home.'3He dressed himself all in green,Thorough the road he went,And every village that he came to,They took him to be a king.4Till that he came to Fair Helen's gate;He tinkled low at the ring;Who was so ready as Fair Helen herselfTo let Lord Thomas in.5'You're welcome, you're welcome, Lord Thomas,' she says,'What news have you brought to me?''I've come to bid you to my wedding,And that is bad news to thee.'6'It's God forbid, Lord Thomas,' she said,'That sic an a thing should be,But I for to be the body of the bride,And you to be the bridegroom.7'Come riddle me, riddle me, mother,' she says,'Come riddle me all in one,Whether I'll go to Lord Thomas' wedding,Or mourn all day at home.'8'Many's the ones your friend,' she says,'And many's the ones your fone;'My blessing be on you, dear daughter,' she says,'And mourn all day at home.'9'Many's the ones my friends, mother,' she says,'And many's the ones my fae,But I will go to Lord Thomas' weddingShould I lose my life by the way.'10She dressed herself all in green,Thorow the road she went,And every village that she came to,They took her for to be a queen.11Till that she came to Lord Thomas' gates;She tinkled low at the ring;Who was so ready as Lord Thomas himselfTo let Fair Helen in.12'Where have you got this brown girl?' she says,'I think she looks wonderful brown;You might have had as pretty a brideAs ever the sun shined on.'13It's up and starts the brown girl's mother,And an angry woman was she:'Where have you got the roseberry-waterThat washes your face so clear?'14'It's I have gotten that roseberry-waterWhere that she could get none;For I have got it in my mother's womb,Where in her mother's womb there was none.'15She took up a little pen-knife,That was baith sharp and small,She stuck Fair Helen fornents the heart,And down the blood did fall.16'What ailes you, Fair Helen?' he says,'I think you look wonderful pale:. . . . . . .. . . . . . .17'What ailes you, Lord Thomas?' she says,'Or don't you very well see?O don't you see my very heart's bloodComing trinkling down by my knee?'18He took up a little small sword,That hung low by his knee,And he cut off the brown girl's head,And dashed it against the wall.19He set the sword all in the ground,And on it he did fall;So there was an end of these three lovers,Thro spite and malice all.

1'Come riddle me, riddle me, mother,' he says,'Come riddle me all in one,Whether I'll goe to court Fair HelenOr fetch you the brown girl home.'

2'It's many's the ones your friends,' she says,'And many's the ones your fone;My blessing be on you, dear son,' she says,'Go fetch me the brown girl home.'

3He dressed himself all in green,Thorough the road he went,And every village that he came to,They took him to be a king.

4Till that he came to Fair Helen's gate;He tinkled low at the ring;Who was so ready as Fair Helen herselfTo let Lord Thomas in.

5'You're welcome, you're welcome, Lord Thomas,' she says,'What news have you brought to me?''I've come to bid you to my wedding,And that is bad news to thee.'

6'It's God forbid, Lord Thomas,' she said,'That sic an a thing should be,But I for to be the body of the bride,And you to be the bridegroom.

7'Come riddle me, riddle me, mother,' she says,'Come riddle me all in one,Whether I'll go to Lord Thomas' wedding,Or mourn all day at home.'

8'Many's the ones your friend,' she says,'And many's the ones your fone;'My blessing be on you, dear daughter,' she says,'And mourn all day at home.'

9'Many's the ones my friends, mother,' she says,'And many's the ones my fae,But I will go to Lord Thomas' weddingShould I lose my life by the way.'

10She dressed herself all in green,Thorow the road she went,And every village that she came to,They took her for to be a queen.

11Till that she came to Lord Thomas' gates;She tinkled low at the ring;Who was so ready as Lord Thomas himselfTo let Fair Helen in.

12'Where have you got this brown girl?' she says,'I think she looks wonderful brown;You might have had as pretty a brideAs ever the sun shined on.'

13It's up and starts the brown girl's mother,And an angry woman was she:'Where have you got the roseberry-waterThat washes your face so clear?'

14'It's I have gotten that roseberry-waterWhere that she could get none;For I have got it in my mother's womb,Where in her mother's womb there was none.'

15She took up a little pen-knife,That was baith sharp and small,She stuck Fair Helen fornents the heart,And down the blood did fall.

16'What ailes you, Fair Helen?' he says,'I think you look wonderful pale:. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

17'What ailes you, Lord Thomas?' she says,'Or don't you very well see?O don't you see my very heart's bloodComing trinkling down by my knee?'

18He took up a little small sword,That hung low by his knee,And he cut off the brown girl's head,And dashed it against the wall.

19He set the sword all in the ground,And on it he did fall;So there was an end of these three lovers,Thro spite and malice all.

82. foein the margin.194. All thro spite and maliceis noted as if it were what was recited.

82. foein the margin.

194. All thro spite and maliceis noted as if it were what was recited.

From Miss Clara Mackay, Woodstock, New Brunswick, 1881, derived from her great grandmother. The title is 'Lord Thomas.'12. The keeper of our king's gear.4, 7are wanting.112. Her merry maids all in green.After 12:

From Miss Clara Mackay, Woodstock, New Brunswick, 1881, derived from her great grandmother. The title is 'Lord Thomas.'

12. The keeper of our king's gear.

4, 7are wanting.

112. Her merry maids all in green.

After 12:

He took her by the lily-white hand,And led her through the hall,And sat her in a chair of gold,Amidst her merry maids all.

152. both clean and sharp.After 17:

152. both clean and sharp.

After 17:

'No, I am not blind,' Lord Thomas he said,'But I can plainly see,And I can see your dear heart's bloodRuns trickling down your knee.'

182. It was both keen and small.184. And flung.After 19, as ind:

182. It was both keen and small.

184. And flung.

After 19, as ind:

'Oh dig me a grave,' Lord Thomas he said,'And dig it both wide and deep,And lay Fair Ellinor at my side,The brown girl at my feet.'

g.Recited to me by Ellen Healy, 1881, as learned by her of a young girl living near Killarney, Ireland, about 1867.22. come riddle me oer and oer:so82.24, 34. the pretty brown girl bring home.After 3:

g.Recited to me by Ellen Healy, 1881, as learned by her of a young girl living near Killarney, Ireland, about 1867.

22. come riddle me oer and oer:so82.

24, 34. the pretty brown girl bring home.

After 3:

He dressed himself up in a suit of green,And his merrymen all in white;There was not a town that he rode throughBut they took him to be a knight.9'Lord Thomas has got company enough,Fair Ellinor, you have none;Therefore I charge you with my blessing,Fair Ellinor, stay at home.'11She dressed herself up in a suit of white,And her merrymen all in green;There was not a town that she rode throughBut they took her to be a queen.

He dressed himself up in a suit of green,And his merrymen all in white;There was not a town that he rode throughBut they took him to be a knight.

9'Lord Thomas has got company enough,Fair Ellinor, you have none;Therefore I charge you with my blessing,Fair Ellinor, stay at home.'

11She dressed herself up in a suit of white,And her merrymen all in green;There was not a town that she rode throughBut they took her to be a queen.

After 12:

He took her by the lily-white hand,And by the waist so small,And set her at the head of the table,. . . . . . .

After 13:

Up spoke the pretty brown girl,She said ...'Where did you get the waterThat washed your skin so white?''There is a well in my father's land,A place you'll never see,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

Up spoke the pretty brown girl,She said ...'Where did you get the waterThat washed your skin so white?'

'There is a well in my father's land,A place you'll never see,. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

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