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1The lassie sang sae loud, sae loud,The lassie sang sae shill;The lassie sang, and the greenwud rang,At the farther side o yon hill.2Bye there cam a troop o merry gentlemen,They aw rode merry bye;The very first and the foremaistWas the first that spak to the may.3‘This is a mark and misty nicht,And I have ridden wrang;If ye wad be sae gude and kindAs to show me the way to gang.’4‘If ye binna the laird o Lochnie’s lands,Nor nane o his degree,I’ll show ye a nearer road that will keep you fraeThe glen-waters and the raging sea.’5‘I’m na the laird o Lochnie’s lands,Nor nane o his degree;But I am as brave a knicht,And ride aft in his company.6‘Have ye na pity on me, pretty maid?Have ye na pity on me?Have ye na pity on my puir steed,That stands trembling by yon tree?’7‘What pity wad ye hae, kind sir?What pity wad ye hae frae me?Though your steed has neither corn nor hay,It has gerss at its liberty.’8He has trysted the pretty maidTill they cam to the brume,And at the end o yon ew-buchtsIt’s there they baith sat doun.9Till up she raise, took up her milk-pails,And away gaed she hame;Up bespak her auld father,‘It’s whare hae ye been sae lang?’10‘This is a mark and a misty nicht,Ye may gang to the door and see;The ewes hae taen a skipping out-oure the knows,They winna bucht in for me.11‘I may curse my father’s shepherd;Some ill death mat he dee!He has buchted the ewes sae far frae the toun,And has trysted the young men to me.’

1The lassie sang sae loud, sae loud,The lassie sang sae shill;The lassie sang, and the greenwud rang,At the farther side o yon hill.

The lassie sang sae loud, sae loud,

The lassie sang sae shill;

The lassie sang, and the greenwud rang,

At the farther side o yon hill.

2Bye there cam a troop o merry gentlemen,They aw rode merry bye;The very first and the foremaistWas the first that spak to the may.

Bye there cam a troop o merry gentlemen,

They aw rode merry bye;

The very first and the foremaist

Was the first that spak to the may.

3‘This is a mark and misty nicht,And I have ridden wrang;If ye wad be sae gude and kindAs to show me the way to gang.’

‘This is a mark and misty nicht,

And I have ridden wrang;

If ye wad be sae gude and kind

As to show me the way to gang.’

4‘If ye binna the laird o Lochnie’s lands,Nor nane o his degree,I’ll show ye a nearer road that will keep you fraeThe glen-waters and the raging sea.’

‘If ye binna the laird o Lochnie’s lands,

Nor nane o his degree,

I’ll show ye a nearer road that will keep you frae

The glen-waters and the raging sea.’

5‘I’m na the laird o Lochnie’s lands,Nor nane o his degree;But I am as brave a knicht,And ride aft in his company.

‘I’m na the laird o Lochnie’s lands,

Nor nane o his degree;

But I am as brave a knicht,

And ride aft in his company.

6‘Have ye na pity on me, pretty maid?Have ye na pity on me?Have ye na pity on my puir steed,That stands trembling by yon tree?’

‘Have ye na pity on me, pretty maid?

Have ye na pity on me?

Have ye na pity on my puir steed,

That stands trembling by yon tree?’

7‘What pity wad ye hae, kind sir?What pity wad ye hae frae me?Though your steed has neither corn nor hay,It has gerss at its liberty.’

‘What pity wad ye hae, kind sir?

What pity wad ye hae frae me?

Though your steed has neither corn nor hay,

It has gerss at its liberty.’

8He has trysted the pretty maidTill they cam to the brume,And at the end o yon ew-buchtsIt’s there they baith sat doun.

He has trysted the pretty maid

Till they cam to the brume,

And at the end o yon ew-buchts

It’s there they baith sat doun.

9Till up she raise, took up her milk-pails,And away gaed she hame;Up bespak her auld father,‘It’s whare hae ye been sae lang?’

Till up she raise, took up her milk-pails,

And away gaed she hame;

Up bespak her auld father,

‘It’s whare hae ye been sae lang?’

10‘This is a mark and a misty nicht,Ye may gang to the door and see;The ewes hae taen a skipping out-oure the knows,They winna bucht in for me.

‘This is a mark and a misty nicht,

Ye may gang to the door and see;

The ewes hae taen a skipping out-oure the knows,

They winna bucht in for me.

11‘I may curse my father’s shepherd;Some ill death mat he dee!He has buchted the ewes sae far frae the toun,And has trysted the young men to me.’

‘I may curse my father’s shepherd;

Some ill death mat he dee!

He has buchted the ewes sae far frae the toun,

And has trysted the young men to me.’

Kinloch MSS, VI, 11; in the handwriting of Dr Joseph Robertson, and given him by his mother, Christían Leslie.

1It was a dark and a misty night,. . . . . . .And by came a troop o gentlemen,Said, Lassie, shew me the way.2‘Oh well ken I by your silk mantle,And by your grass-green sleeve,That you are the maid of the Cowdenknows,And may well seem to be.’3‘I’m nae the maid of the Cowdenknows,Nor ever think to be;I am but ane of her hirewomen,Rides aft in her companie.4‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed,And by your merry winking ee,That you are the laird of Lochinvar,And may well seem to be.’5‘I’m nae the laird of Lochinvar,Nor may well seem to be;But I am one of his merry young men,And am oft in his companie.’* * * * * *6‘The tod was among your sheep, father,You may look forth and see;And before he had taen the lamb he’s taenI had rather he had taen three.’7When twenty weeks were come and gane,Twenty weeks and three,The lassie she turned pale and wan. . . . . . .8. . . . . . .And was caain out her father’s kye,When by came a troop of gentlemen,Were riding along the way.9‘Fair may it fa thee, weel-fa’rt may!Wha’s aught the bairn ye’re wi?’‘O I hae a husband o my ain,To father my bairn te.’10‘You lie, you lie, you well-far’d may,Sae loud’s I hear you lie!Do you mind the dark and misty nightI was in the bught wi thee?’11‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed,And by your merry winkin ee,That you are the laird of Lochinvar,That was in the bught wi me.’

1It was a dark and a misty night,. . . . . . .And by came a troop o gentlemen,Said, Lassie, shew me the way.

It was a dark and a misty night,

. . . . . . .

And by came a troop o gentlemen,

Said, Lassie, shew me the way.

2‘Oh well ken I by your silk mantle,And by your grass-green sleeve,That you are the maid of the Cowdenknows,And may well seem to be.’

‘Oh well ken I by your silk mantle,

And by your grass-green sleeve,

That you are the maid of the Cowdenknows,

And may well seem to be.’

3‘I’m nae the maid of the Cowdenknows,Nor ever think to be;I am but ane of her hirewomen,Rides aft in her companie.

‘I’m nae the maid of the Cowdenknows,

Nor ever think to be;

I am but ane of her hirewomen,

Rides aft in her companie.

4‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed,And by your merry winking ee,That you are the laird of Lochinvar,And may well seem to be.’

‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed,

And by your merry winking ee,

That you are the laird of Lochinvar,

And may well seem to be.’

5‘I’m nae the laird of Lochinvar,Nor may well seem to be;But I am one of his merry young men,And am oft in his companie.’

‘I’m nae the laird of Lochinvar,

Nor may well seem to be;

But I am one of his merry young men,

And am oft in his companie.’

* * * * * *

6‘The tod was among your sheep, father,You may look forth and see;And before he had taen the lamb he’s taenI had rather he had taen three.’

‘The tod was among your sheep, father,

You may look forth and see;

And before he had taen the lamb he’s taen

I had rather he had taen three.’

7When twenty weeks were come and gane,Twenty weeks and three,The lassie she turned pale and wan. . . . . . .

When twenty weeks were come and gane,

Twenty weeks and three,

The lassie she turned pale and wan

. . . . . . .

8. . . . . . .And was caain out her father’s kye,When by came a troop of gentlemen,Were riding along the way.

. . . . . . .

And was caain out her father’s kye,

When by came a troop of gentlemen,

Were riding along the way.

9‘Fair may it fa thee, weel-fa’rt may!Wha’s aught the bairn ye’re wi?’‘O I hae a husband o my ain,To father my bairn te.’

‘Fair may it fa thee, weel-fa’rt may!

Wha’s aught the bairn ye’re wi?’

‘O I hae a husband o my ain,

To father my bairn te.’

10‘You lie, you lie, you well-far’d may,Sae loud’s I hear you lie!Do you mind the dark and misty nightI was in the bught wi thee?’

‘You lie, you lie, you well-far’d may,

Sae loud’s I hear you lie!

Do you mind the dark and misty night

I was in the bught wi thee?’

11‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed,And by your merry winkin ee,That you are the laird of Lochinvar,That was in the bught wi me.’

‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed,

And by your merry winkin ee,

That you are the laird of Lochinvar,

That was in the bught wi me.’

Joseph Robertson’s Journal of Excursions, No 6; “taken down from a man in the parish of Leochel, 12 February, 1829.”

* * * * * *1There was four and twenty gentlemen,As they were ridin by,And aff there loups the head o them,Cums in to this fair may.2‘It’s a mark and a mark and a misty night,And we canna know the way;And ye wad be as gude to usAs shew us on the way.’3‘Ye’ll get a boy for meat,’ she says,‘Ye’ll get a boy for fee,. . . . . . .That will shew you the right way.’4‘We’ll get a boy for meat,’ he says,‘We’ll get a boy for fee,But we do not know where to seekThat bonny boy out.’* * * * * *5‘It’s foul befa my auld father’s men,An ill death mat they die!They’ve biggit the ewe bucht sae far frae the townThey’ve tristed the men to me.’

* * * * * *

1There was four and twenty gentlemen,As they were ridin by,And aff there loups the head o them,Cums in to this fair may.

There was four and twenty gentlemen,

As they were ridin by,

And aff there loups the head o them,

Cums in to this fair may.

2‘It’s a mark and a mark and a misty night,And we canna know the way;And ye wad be as gude to usAs shew us on the way.’

‘It’s a mark and a mark and a misty night,

And we canna know the way;

And ye wad be as gude to us

As shew us on the way.’

3‘Ye’ll get a boy for meat,’ she says,‘Ye’ll get a boy for fee,. . . . . . .That will shew you the right way.’

‘Ye’ll get a boy for meat,’ she says,

‘Ye’ll get a boy for fee,

. . . . . . .

That will shew you the right way.’

4‘We’ll get a boy for meat,’ he says,‘We’ll get a boy for fee,But we do not know where to seekThat bonny boy out.’

‘We’ll get a boy for meat,’ he says,

‘We’ll get a boy for fee,

But we do not know where to seek

That bonny boy out.’

* * * * * *

5‘It’s foul befa my auld father’s men,An ill death mat they die!They’ve biggit the ewe bucht sae far frae the townThey’ve tristed the men to me.’

‘It’s foul befa my auld father’s men,

An ill death mat they die!

They’ve biggit the ewe bucht sae far frae the town

They’ve tristed the men to me.’

Buchan’s MSS, II, 178.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom grows oer the burn!Aye when I mind on ‘s bonny yellow hair,I aye hae cause to mourn.1There was a bonny, a well-fared may,In the fauld milking her kye,When by came a troop of merry gentlemen,And sae merrily they rode by.O the broom, etc.2The maid she sang till the hills they rang,And a little more forebye,Till in came ane of these gentlemenTo the bught o the bonny may.3‘Well mat ye sing, fair maid,’ he says,‘In the fauld, milking your kye;The night is misty, weet and dark,And I’ve gane out o my way.’4‘Keep on the way ye ken, kind sir,Keep on the way ye ken;But I pray ye take care o Clyde’s water,For the stream runs proud and fair.’5‘I ken you by your lamar beads,And by your blinking ee,That your mother has some other maidTo send to the ewes than thee.’6‘I ken you by your powderd locks,And by your gay gold ring,That ye are the laird o Rock-rock lays,That beguiles all young women.’7‘I’m not the laird o the Rock-rock lays,Nor ever hopes to be;But I am one o the finest knightsThat’s in his companie.8‘Are ye the maid o the Cowden Knowes?I think you seem to be;’‘No, I’m not the maid o the Cowden Knowes,Nor ever hopes to be;But I am one o her mother’s maids,And oft in her companie.’9He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And by her grass-green sleeve,He’s set her down upon the groundOf her kin spierd nae leave.10He’s gien her a silver comb,To comb her yellow hair;He bade her keep it for his sake,For fear she never got mair.11He pat his hand in his pocket,He’s gien her guineas three;Says, Take ye that, fair maid, he says,‘Twill pay the nourice’s fee.12She’s taen her milk-pail on her head,And she gaed singing hame,And a’ that her auld father did say,‘Daughter, ye’ve tarried lang.’13‘Woe be to your shepherd, father,And an ill death mat he die!He’s biggit the bught sae far frae the town,And trystit a man to me.14‘There came a tod into the bught,The like o ‘m I neer did see:Before he’d taen the lamb he’s taen,I’d rather he’d taen other three.’15Or eer six months were past and gane,Six months but other three,The lassie begud for to fret and frown,And lang for his blinking ee.16It fell upon another day,When ca’ing out her father’s kye,That by came the troop o gentlemen,Sae merrily riding by.17Then ane of them stopt, and said to her,‘Wha’s aught that bairn ye’re wi?’The lassie began for to blush, and think,To a father as good as ye.18She turnd her right and round aboutAnd thought nae little shame;Then a’ to him that she did say,‘I’ve a father to my bairn at hame.’19‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-fared may,Sae loud’s I hear ye lie!For dinna ye mind yon misty nightI was in the bught wi thee?20‘I gave you a silver comb,To comb your yellow hair;I bade you keep it for my sake,For fear ye’d never get mair.21‘I pat my hand in my pocket,I gae you guineas three;I bade you keep them for my sake,And pay the nourice’s fee.’22He’s lappen aff his berry-brown steedAnd put that fair maid on;‘Ca hame your kye, auld father,’ he says,‘She shall never mair return.23‘I am the laird o the Rock-rock lays,Hae thirty ploughs and three,And this day will wed the fairest maidThat eer my eyes did see.’O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom grows oer the burn!Aye when she minds on his yellow hair,She shall neer hae cause to mourn.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom grows oer the burn!Aye when I mind on ‘s bonny yellow hair,I aye hae cause to mourn.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom grows oer the burn!

Aye when I mind on ‘s bonny yellow hair,

I aye hae cause to mourn.

1There was a bonny, a well-fared may,In the fauld milking her kye,When by came a troop of merry gentlemen,And sae merrily they rode by.O the broom, etc.

There was a bonny, a well-fared may,

In the fauld milking her kye,

When by came a troop of merry gentlemen,

And sae merrily they rode by.

O the broom, etc.

2The maid she sang till the hills they rang,And a little more forebye,Till in came ane of these gentlemenTo the bught o the bonny may.

The maid she sang till the hills they rang,

And a little more forebye,

Till in came ane of these gentlemen

To the bught o the bonny may.

3‘Well mat ye sing, fair maid,’ he says,‘In the fauld, milking your kye;The night is misty, weet and dark,And I’ve gane out o my way.’

‘Well mat ye sing, fair maid,’ he says,

‘In the fauld, milking your kye;

The night is misty, weet and dark,

And I’ve gane out o my way.’

4‘Keep on the way ye ken, kind sir,Keep on the way ye ken;But I pray ye take care o Clyde’s water,For the stream runs proud and fair.’

‘Keep on the way ye ken, kind sir,

Keep on the way ye ken;

But I pray ye take care o Clyde’s water,

For the stream runs proud and fair.’

5‘I ken you by your lamar beads,And by your blinking ee,That your mother has some other maidTo send to the ewes than thee.’

‘I ken you by your lamar beads,

And by your blinking ee,

That your mother has some other maid

To send to the ewes than thee.’

6‘I ken you by your powderd locks,And by your gay gold ring,That ye are the laird o Rock-rock lays,That beguiles all young women.’

‘I ken you by your powderd locks,

And by your gay gold ring,

That ye are the laird o Rock-rock lays,

That beguiles all young women.’

7‘I’m not the laird o the Rock-rock lays,Nor ever hopes to be;But I am one o the finest knightsThat’s in his companie.

‘I’m not the laird o the Rock-rock lays,

Nor ever hopes to be;

But I am one o the finest knights

That’s in his companie.

8‘Are ye the maid o the Cowden Knowes?I think you seem to be;’‘No, I’m not the maid o the Cowden Knowes,Nor ever hopes to be;But I am one o her mother’s maids,And oft in her companie.’

‘Are ye the maid o the Cowden Knowes?

I think you seem to be;’

‘No, I’m not the maid o the Cowden Knowes,

Nor ever hopes to be;

But I am one o her mother’s maids,

And oft in her companie.’

9He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And by her grass-green sleeve,He’s set her down upon the groundOf her kin spierd nae leave.

He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,

And by her grass-green sleeve,

He’s set her down upon the ground

Of her kin spierd nae leave.

10He’s gien her a silver comb,To comb her yellow hair;He bade her keep it for his sake,For fear she never got mair.

He’s gien her a silver comb,

To comb her yellow hair;

He bade her keep it for his sake,

For fear she never got mair.

11He pat his hand in his pocket,He’s gien her guineas three;Says, Take ye that, fair maid, he says,‘Twill pay the nourice’s fee.

He pat his hand in his pocket,

He’s gien her guineas three;

Says, Take ye that, fair maid, he says,

‘Twill pay the nourice’s fee.

12She’s taen her milk-pail on her head,And she gaed singing hame,And a’ that her auld father did say,‘Daughter, ye’ve tarried lang.’

She’s taen her milk-pail on her head,

And she gaed singing hame,

And a’ that her auld father did say,

‘Daughter, ye’ve tarried lang.’

13‘Woe be to your shepherd, father,And an ill death mat he die!He’s biggit the bught sae far frae the town,And trystit a man to me.

‘Woe be to your shepherd, father,

And an ill death mat he die!

He’s biggit the bught sae far frae the town,

And trystit a man to me.

14‘There came a tod into the bught,The like o ‘m I neer did see:Before he’d taen the lamb he’s taen,I’d rather he’d taen other three.’

‘There came a tod into the bught,

The like o ‘m I neer did see:

Before he’d taen the lamb he’s taen,

I’d rather he’d taen other three.’

15Or eer six months were past and gane,Six months but other three,The lassie begud for to fret and frown,And lang for his blinking ee.

Or eer six months were past and gane,

Six months but other three,

The lassie begud for to fret and frown,

And lang for his blinking ee.

16It fell upon another day,When ca’ing out her father’s kye,That by came the troop o gentlemen,Sae merrily riding by.

It fell upon another day,

When ca’ing out her father’s kye,

That by came the troop o gentlemen,

Sae merrily riding by.

17Then ane of them stopt, and said to her,‘Wha’s aught that bairn ye’re wi?’The lassie began for to blush, and think,To a father as good as ye.

Then ane of them stopt, and said to her,

‘Wha’s aught that bairn ye’re wi?’

The lassie began for to blush, and think,

To a father as good as ye.

18She turnd her right and round aboutAnd thought nae little shame;Then a’ to him that she did say,‘I’ve a father to my bairn at hame.’

She turnd her right and round about

And thought nae little shame;

Then a’ to him that she did say,

‘I’ve a father to my bairn at hame.’

19‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-fared may,Sae loud’s I hear ye lie!For dinna ye mind yon misty nightI was in the bught wi thee?

‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-fared may,

Sae loud’s I hear ye lie!

For dinna ye mind yon misty night

I was in the bught wi thee?

20‘I gave you a silver comb,To comb your yellow hair;I bade you keep it for my sake,For fear ye’d never get mair.

‘I gave you a silver comb,

To comb your yellow hair;

I bade you keep it for my sake,

For fear ye’d never get mair.

21‘I pat my hand in my pocket,I gae you guineas three;I bade you keep them for my sake,And pay the nourice’s fee.’

‘I pat my hand in my pocket,

I gae you guineas three;

I bade you keep them for my sake,

And pay the nourice’s fee.’

22He’s lappen aff his berry-brown steedAnd put that fair maid on;‘Ca hame your kye, auld father,’ he says,‘She shall never mair return.

He’s lappen aff his berry-brown steed

And put that fair maid on;

‘Ca hame your kye, auld father,’ he says,

‘She shall never mair return.

23‘I am the laird o the Rock-rock lays,Hae thirty ploughs and three,And this day will wed the fairest maidThat eer my eyes did see.’

‘I am the laird o the Rock-rock lays,

Hae thirty ploughs and three,

And this day will wed the fairest maid

That eer my eyes did see.’

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom grows oer the burn!Aye when she minds on his yellow hair,She shall neer hae cause to mourn.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom grows oer the burn!

Aye when she minds on his yellow hair,

She shall neer hae cause to mourn.

Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 172.

1’Twas on a misty day, a fair maiden gayWent out to the Cowdenknowes;Lang, lang she thought ere her ewes woud bught,Wi her pail for to milk the ewes.O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang,In the ewe-bught, milking her ewes.2And aye as she sang the greenwoods rang,Her voice was sae loud and shrill;They heard the voice o this well-far’d maidAt the other side o the hill.3‘My mother she is an ill woman,And an ill woman is she;Or than she might have got some other maidTo milk her ewes without me.4‘My father was ance a landed laird,As mony mair have been;But he held on the gambling tradeTill a ‘s free lands were dune.5‘My father drank the brandy and beer,My mother the wine sae red;Gars me, poor girl, gang maiden lang,For the lack o tocher guid.’6There was a troop o merry gentlemenCame riding alang the way,And one o them drew the ewe-bughts unto,At the voice o this lovely may.7‘O well may you sing, my well-far’d maid,And well may you sing, I say,For this is a mirk and a misty night,And I’ve ridden out o my way.’8‘Ride on, ride on, young man,’ she said,‘Ride on the way ye ken;But keep frae the streams o the Rock-river,For they run proud and vain.9‘Ye winna want boys for meat, kind sir,And ye winna want men for fee;It sets not us that are young womenTo show young men the way.’10‘O winna ye pity me, fair maid?O winna ye pity me?O winna ye pity my poor steed,Stands trembling at yon tree?’11‘Ride on, ride on, ye rank rider,Your steed’s baith stout and strang;For out o the ewe-bught I winna come,For fear that ye do me wrang.12‘For well ken I by your high-colld hat,And by your gay gowd ring,That ye are the Earl o Rock-rivers,That beguiles a’ our young women.’13‘O I’m not the Earl o the Rock-rivers,Nor ever thinks to be;But I am ane o his finest knights,Rides aft in his companie.14‘I know you well by your lamar beads,And by your merry winking ee,That ye are the maid o the Cowdenknowes,And may very well seem to be.’15He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And by the grass-green sleeve,He’s laid her down by the ewe-bught-wa,At her he spiered nae leave.16When he had got his wills o her,And his wills he had taen,He lifted her up by the middle sae sma,Says, Fair maid, rise up again.17Then he has taen out a siller kaim,Kaimd down her yellow hair;Says, Fair maid, take that, keep it for my sake,Case frae me ye never get mair.18Then he put his hand in his pocket,And gien her guineas three;Says, Take that, fair maiden, till I return,‘Twill pay the nurse’s fee.19Then he lap on his milk-white steed,And he rade after his men,And a’ that they did say to him,‘Dear master, ye’ve tarried lang.’20‘I’ve ridden east, I’ve ridden west,And over the Cowdenknowes,But the bonniest lass that eer I did see,Was i the ewe-bught, milking her ewes.’21She’s taen her milk-pail on her head,And she gaed singing hame;But a’ that her auld father did say,‘Daughter, ye’ve tarried lang.’‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!Aye sae sair’s I may rue the day,In the ewe-bughts, milking my ewes.22‘O this is a mirk and a misty night,O father, as ye may see;The ewes they ran skipping over the knowes,And they woudna bught in for me.23. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .‘Before that he’d taen the lamb that he took,I rather he’d taen other three.’24When twenty weeks were come and gane,And twenty weeks and three,The lassie’s colour grew pale and wan,And she longed this knight to see.25Says, ‘Wae to the fox came amo our flock!I wish he had taen them a’Before that he’d taen frae me what he took;It’s occasiond my downfa.’26It fell ance upon a timeShe was ca’ing hame her kye,There came a troop o merry gentlemen,And they wyled the bonny lassie by.27But one o them spake as he rode past,Says, Who owes the bairn ye are wi?A little she spake, but thought wi hersell,‘Perhaps to ane as gude as thee.’28O then she did blush as he did pass by,And dear! but she thought shame,And all that she did say to him,‘Sir, I have a husband at hame.’29‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-far’d maid,Sae loud as I hear you lie!For dinna ye mind yon misty night,Ye were in the bught wi me?‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!Aye say sweet as I heard you sing,In the ewe-bughts, milking your ewes.’30‘O well do I mind, kind sir,’ she said,‘As ye rode over the hill;Ye took frae me my maidenhead,Fell sair against my will.‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!And aye sae sair as I rue the dayI met you, milking my ewes.31‘And aye as ye spake, ye lifted your hat,Ye had a merry winking ee;I ken you well to be the man,Then kind sir, O pity me!’32‘Win up, win up, fair maiden,’ he said,‘Nae langer here ye’ll stay;This night ye ‘se be my wedded wife,Without any more delay.’33He lighted aff his milk-white steedAnd set the lassie on;‘Ca in your kye, auld man,’ he did say,‘She’ll neer ca them in again.34‘I am the Earl o the Rock-rivers,Hae fifty ploughs and three,And am sure I’ve chosen the fairest maidThat ever my eyes did see.’35Then he stript her o the robes o grey,Donned her in the robes o green,And when she came to her lord’s haThey took her to be some queen.O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!And aye sae sweet as the bonny lassie sang,That ever she milked the ewes.

’Twas on a misty day, a fair maiden gay

Went out to the Cowdenknowes;

Lang, lang she thought ere her ewes woud bught,

Wi her pail for to milk the ewes.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom o the Cowdenknowes!

And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang,

In the ewe-bught, milking her ewes.

2And aye as she sang the greenwoods rang,Her voice was sae loud and shrill;They heard the voice o this well-far’d maidAt the other side o the hill.

And aye as she sang the greenwoods rang,

Her voice was sae loud and shrill;

They heard the voice o this well-far’d maid

At the other side o the hill.

3‘My mother she is an ill woman,And an ill woman is she;Or than she might have got some other maidTo milk her ewes without me.

‘My mother she is an ill woman,

And an ill woman is she;

Or than she might have got some other maid

To milk her ewes without me.

4‘My father was ance a landed laird,As mony mair have been;But he held on the gambling tradeTill a ‘s free lands were dune.

‘My father was ance a landed laird,

As mony mair have been;

But he held on the gambling trade

Till a ‘s free lands were dune.

5‘My father drank the brandy and beer,My mother the wine sae red;Gars me, poor girl, gang maiden lang,For the lack o tocher guid.’

‘My father drank the brandy and beer,

My mother the wine sae red;

Gars me, poor girl, gang maiden lang,

For the lack o tocher guid.’

6There was a troop o merry gentlemenCame riding alang the way,And one o them drew the ewe-bughts unto,At the voice o this lovely may.

There was a troop o merry gentlemen

Came riding alang the way,

And one o them drew the ewe-bughts unto,

At the voice o this lovely may.

7‘O well may you sing, my well-far’d maid,And well may you sing, I say,For this is a mirk and a misty night,And I’ve ridden out o my way.’

‘O well may you sing, my well-far’d maid,

And well may you sing, I say,

For this is a mirk and a misty night,

And I’ve ridden out o my way.’

8‘Ride on, ride on, young man,’ she said,‘Ride on the way ye ken;But keep frae the streams o the Rock-river,For they run proud and vain.

‘Ride on, ride on, young man,’ she said,

‘Ride on the way ye ken;

But keep frae the streams o the Rock-river,

For they run proud and vain.

9‘Ye winna want boys for meat, kind sir,And ye winna want men for fee;It sets not us that are young womenTo show young men the way.’

‘Ye winna want boys for meat, kind sir,

And ye winna want men for fee;

It sets not us that are young women

To show young men the way.’

10‘O winna ye pity me, fair maid?O winna ye pity me?O winna ye pity my poor steed,Stands trembling at yon tree?’

‘O winna ye pity me, fair maid?

O winna ye pity me?

O winna ye pity my poor steed,

Stands trembling at yon tree?’

11‘Ride on, ride on, ye rank rider,Your steed’s baith stout and strang;For out o the ewe-bught I winna come,For fear that ye do me wrang.

‘Ride on, ride on, ye rank rider,

Your steed’s baith stout and strang;

For out o the ewe-bught I winna come,

For fear that ye do me wrang.

12‘For well ken I by your high-colld hat,And by your gay gowd ring,That ye are the Earl o Rock-rivers,That beguiles a’ our young women.’

‘For well ken I by your high-colld hat,

And by your gay gowd ring,

That ye are the Earl o Rock-rivers,

That beguiles a’ our young women.’

13‘O I’m not the Earl o the Rock-rivers,Nor ever thinks to be;But I am ane o his finest knights,Rides aft in his companie.

‘O I’m not the Earl o the Rock-rivers,

Nor ever thinks to be;

But I am ane o his finest knights,

Rides aft in his companie.

14‘I know you well by your lamar beads,And by your merry winking ee,That ye are the maid o the Cowdenknowes,And may very well seem to be.’

‘I know you well by your lamar beads,

And by your merry winking ee,

That ye are the maid o the Cowdenknowes,

And may very well seem to be.’

15He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,And by the grass-green sleeve,He’s laid her down by the ewe-bught-wa,At her he spiered nae leave.

He’s taen her by the milk-white hand,

And by the grass-green sleeve,

He’s laid her down by the ewe-bught-wa,

At her he spiered nae leave.

16When he had got his wills o her,And his wills he had taen,He lifted her up by the middle sae sma,Says, Fair maid, rise up again.

When he had got his wills o her,

And his wills he had taen,

He lifted her up by the middle sae sma,

Says, Fair maid, rise up again.

17Then he has taen out a siller kaim,Kaimd down her yellow hair;Says, Fair maid, take that, keep it for my sake,Case frae me ye never get mair.

Then he has taen out a siller kaim,

Kaimd down her yellow hair;

Says, Fair maid, take that, keep it for my sake,

Case frae me ye never get mair.

18Then he put his hand in his pocket,And gien her guineas three;Says, Take that, fair maiden, till I return,‘Twill pay the nurse’s fee.

Then he put his hand in his pocket,

And gien her guineas three;

Says, Take that, fair maiden, till I return,

‘Twill pay the nurse’s fee.

19Then he lap on his milk-white steed,And he rade after his men,And a’ that they did say to him,‘Dear master, ye’ve tarried lang.’

Then he lap on his milk-white steed,

And he rade after his men,

And a’ that they did say to him,

‘Dear master, ye’ve tarried lang.’

20‘I’ve ridden east, I’ve ridden west,And over the Cowdenknowes,But the bonniest lass that eer I did see,Was i the ewe-bught, milking her ewes.’

‘I’ve ridden east, I’ve ridden west,

And over the Cowdenknowes,

But the bonniest lass that eer I did see,

Was i the ewe-bught, milking her ewes.’

21She’s taen her milk-pail on her head,And she gaed singing hame;But a’ that her auld father did say,‘Daughter, ye’ve tarried lang.’‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!Aye sae sair’s I may rue the day,In the ewe-bughts, milking my ewes.

She’s taen her milk-pail on her head,

And she gaed singing hame;

But a’ that her auld father did say,

‘Daughter, ye’ve tarried lang.’

‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom o the Cowdenknowes!

Aye sae sair’s I may rue the day,

In the ewe-bughts, milking my ewes.

22‘O this is a mirk and a misty night,O father, as ye may see;The ewes they ran skipping over the knowes,And they woudna bught in for me.

‘O this is a mirk and a misty night,

O father, as ye may see;

The ewes they ran skipping over the knowes,

And they woudna bught in for me.

23. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .‘Before that he’d taen the lamb that he took,I rather he’d taen other three.’

. . . . . . . .

‘Before that he’d taen the lamb that he took,

I rather he’d taen other three.’

24When twenty weeks were come and gane,And twenty weeks and three,The lassie’s colour grew pale and wan,And she longed this knight to see.

When twenty weeks were come and gane,

And twenty weeks and three,

The lassie’s colour grew pale and wan,

And she longed this knight to see.

25Says, ‘Wae to the fox came amo our flock!I wish he had taen them a’Before that he’d taen frae me what he took;It’s occasiond my downfa.’

Says, ‘Wae to the fox came amo our flock!

I wish he had taen them a’

Before that he’d taen frae me what he took;

It’s occasiond my downfa.’

26It fell ance upon a timeShe was ca’ing hame her kye,There came a troop o merry gentlemen,And they wyled the bonny lassie by.

It fell ance upon a time

She was ca’ing hame her kye,

There came a troop o merry gentlemen,

And they wyled the bonny lassie by.

27But one o them spake as he rode past,Says, Who owes the bairn ye are wi?A little she spake, but thought wi hersell,‘Perhaps to ane as gude as thee.’

But one o them spake as he rode past,

Says, Who owes the bairn ye are wi?

A little she spake, but thought wi hersell,

‘Perhaps to ane as gude as thee.’

28O then she did blush as he did pass by,And dear! but she thought shame,And all that she did say to him,‘Sir, I have a husband at hame.’

O then she did blush as he did pass by,

And dear! but she thought shame,

And all that she did say to him,

‘Sir, I have a husband at hame.’

29‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-far’d maid,Sae loud as I hear you lie!For dinna ye mind yon misty night,Ye were in the bught wi me?‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!Aye say sweet as I heard you sing,In the ewe-bughts, milking your ewes.’

‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-far’d maid,

Sae loud as I hear you lie!

For dinna ye mind yon misty night,

Ye were in the bught wi me?

‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom o the Cowdenknowes!

Aye say sweet as I heard you sing,

In the ewe-bughts, milking your ewes.’

30‘O well do I mind, kind sir,’ she said,‘As ye rode over the hill;Ye took frae me my maidenhead,Fell sair against my will.‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!And aye sae sair as I rue the dayI met you, milking my ewes.

‘O well do I mind, kind sir,’ she said,

‘As ye rode over the hill;

Ye took frae me my maidenhead,

Fell sair against my will.

‘O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom o the Cowdenknowes!

And aye sae sair as I rue the day

I met you, milking my ewes.

31‘And aye as ye spake, ye lifted your hat,Ye had a merry winking ee;I ken you well to be the man,Then kind sir, O pity me!’

‘And aye as ye spake, ye lifted your hat,

Ye had a merry winking ee;

I ken you well to be the man,

Then kind sir, O pity me!’

32‘Win up, win up, fair maiden,’ he said,‘Nae langer here ye’ll stay;This night ye ‘se be my wedded wife,Without any more delay.’

‘Win up, win up, fair maiden,’ he said,

‘Nae langer here ye’ll stay;

This night ye ‘se be my wedded wife,

Without any more delay.’

33He lighted aff his milk-white steedAnd set the lassie on;‘Ca in your kye, auld man,’ he did say,‘She’ll neer ca them in again.

He lighted aff his milk-white steed

And set the lassie on;

‘Ca in your kye, auld man,’ he did say,

‘She’ll neer ca them in again.

34‘I am the Earl o the Rock-rivers,Hae fifty ploughs and three,And am sure I’ve chosen the fairest maidThat ever my eyes did see.’

‘I am the Earl o the Rock-rivers,

Hae fifty ploughs and three,

And am sure I’ve chosen the fairest maid

That ever my eyes did see.’

35Then he stript her o the robes o grey,Donned her in the robes o green,And when she came to her lord’s haThey took her to be some queen.O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom o the Cowdenknowes!And aye sae sweet as the bonny lassie sang,That ever she milked the ewes.

Then he stript her o the robes o grey,

Donned her in the robes o green,

And when she came to her lord’s ha

They took her to be some queen.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom o the Cowdenknowes!

And aye sae sweet as the bonny lassie sang,

That ever she milked the ewes.

Kinloch MSS, I, 145; from Mary Barr.

1O there war a troop o merry gentlemenCam riding oure the knowes,And they hear the voice o a bonny lass,In the buchts, milking the yowes.2‘O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!O saved may ye be!My steed he has riden wrang,Fain wad I ken the way.’3She has tane the steed by the bridle-reins,Has led him till the way,And he has tane out three gowd rings,Gien them to that bonnie may.4And he has tane her by the milk-white handAnd by the gerss-green sleeve,And he laid her doun on the side o yon hill,At her daddie speird na leave.5Now she has hame to her father gane,Her father did her blame:‘O whare hae ye been, my ae dochter?For ye hae na been your lane.’6‘O the nicht is mirk, and very, very wet,Ye may gang to the door and see;O there’s nabody been wi me, father,There’s nabody been wi me.7‘But there cam a tod to your bucht, father,The like o him I neer saw;Afore you’d gien him the lamb that he took,Ye’d rather hae gien them a’.8‘O wae be to my father’s sheep-hird,An ill death may he dee!For bigging the bucht sae nar the road,Let the Lochinvar to me!’9She’s tane her pig and her cog in her hand,And she’s gane to milk the kye;But ere she was aware, the Laird o LochinvarCam riding in the way.10‘O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!I wish ye may be sound;O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!What maks thy belly sae round?’11O she has turnd hersel round about,And she within her thoucht shame:‘O it’s nabody’s wills wi me, kind sir,For I hae a gudeman o my ain.’12‘Ye lee, ye lee, my bonnie may,Weel do I ken ye lee!For dinna ye mind o the three gowd ringsI gied ye o the new moneye?’13‘O weel do I mind thee, kind sir,O weel do I mind thee;For ae whan ye spak ye lifted up your hat,And ye had a bonnie twinklin ee.’14‘O ye need na toil yoursel, my dear,Neither to card nor to spin;For there’s ten pieces I gie unto thee;Keep them for your lying in.’15Now she has hame to her father gane,As fast as she could hie;And she was na weel crownd wi joyTill her auld son gat she.16But she’ll na tell the daddie o itTill father nor to mither,And she’ll na tell the daddie o itTo sister nor to brither.17And word is to the Lochinvar,And word is to him gane,That sic a tenant’s dochterHas born a bastard son:18And she’ll na tell the daddie o itTo father nor to mither,And she’ll na tell the daddie o itTill sister nor to brither.19‘O weel do I ken the reason o that,And the reason weel do I ken;O weel ken I the reason o that;It’s to some o her father’s men.20‘But I will awa to Littlejohn’s house,Shule them out o the door;For there’s na tenant on a’ my landShall harbour an arrant hure.’21Then out and spak the house-keeper,‘Ye’d better lat her abee;For an onie harm befa this may,A’ the wyte will be on me.’22O he has turnd himsel round about,Within himsel thoucht he‘Better do I loe her little fingerThan a’ thy haill bodie.23‘Gae saddle to me my six coach-mares,Put a’ their harness on,And I will awa to Littlejohn’s houseFor reports o this bastard son.’24Now whan he cam to Littlejohn’s house,Littlejohn was at the door:‘Ye rascal, ye rogue, ye impudent dog,Will ye harbour an arrant hure!’25‘O pardon me, my sovereign liege,O pardon me, I pray;Oh that the nicht that she was bornShe’d deed the very neist day!’26But he is in to his bonnie lassie gane,And has bolted the door behind,And there he has kissd his bonnie lassie sweet,It’s over and over again.27‘Ye did weel, ye did weel, my bonnie may,To keep the secret twixt me and thee;For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,The lady o ‘t I’ll mak thee.28‘Come doun, come doun, now gentlemen a’,And set this fair lady on;Mither, ye may milk the ewes as ye will,For she’ll neer milk them again.29‘For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,O thirty plows and three,And I hae gotten the bonniest mayThat’s in a’ the south countrie.’

1O there war a troop o merry gentlemenCam riding oure the knowes,And they hear the voice o a bonny lass,In the buchts, milking the yowes.

O there war a troop o merry gentlemen

Cam riding oure the knowes,

And they hear the voice o a bonny lass,

In the buchts, milking the yowes.

2‘O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!O saved may ye be!My steed he has riden wrang,Fain wad I ken the way.’

‘O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!

O saved may ye be!

My steed he has riden wrang,

Fain wad I ken the way.’

3She has tane the steed by the bridle-reins,Has led him till the way,And he has tane out three gowd rings,Gien them to that bonnie may.

She has tane the steed by the bridle-reins,

Has led him till the way,

And he has tane out three gowd rings,

Gien them to that bonnie may.

4And he has tane her by the milk-white handAnd by the gerss-green sleeve,And he laid her doun on the side o yon hill,At her daddie speird na leave.

And he has tane her by the milk-white hand

And by the gerss-green sleeve,

And he laid her doun on the side o yon hill,

At her daddie speird na leave.

5Now she has hame to her father gane,Her father did her blame:‘O whare hae ye been, my ae dochter?For ye hae na been your lane.’

Now she has hame to her father gane,

Her father did her blame:

‘O whare hae ye been, my ae dochter?

For ye hae na been your lane.’

6‘O the nicht is mirk, and very, very wet,Ye may gang to the door and see;O there’s nabody been wi me, father,There’s nabody been wi me.

‘O the nicht is mirk, and very, very wet,

Ye may gang to the door and see;

O there’s nabody been wi me, father,

There’s nabody been wi me.

7‘But there cam a tod to your bucht, father,The like o him I neer saw;Afore you’d gien him the lamb that he took,Ye’d rather hae gien them a’.

‘But there cam a tod to your bucht, father,

The like o him I neer saw;

Afore you’d gien him the lamb that he took,

Ye’d rather hae gien them a’.

8‘O wae be to my father’s sheep-hird,An ill death may he dee!For bigging the bucht sae nar the road,Let the Lochinvar to me!’

‘O wae be to my father’s sheep-hird,

An ill death may he dee!

For bigging the bucht sae nar the road,

Let the Lochinvar to me!’

9She’s tane her pig and her cog in her hand,And she’s gane to milk the kye;But ere she was aware, the Laird o LochinvarCam riding in the way.

She’s tane her pig and her cog in her hand,

And she’s gane to milk the kye;

But ere she was aware, the Laird o Lochinvar

Cam riding in the way.

10‘O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!I wish ye may be sound;O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!What maks thy belly sae round?’

‘O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!

I wish ye may be sound;

O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!

What maks thy belly sae round?’

11O she has turnd hersel round about,And she within her thoucht shame:‘O it’s nabody’s wills wi me, kind sir,For I hae a gudeman o my ain.’

O she has turnd hersel round about,

And she within her thoucht shame:

‘O it’s nabody’s wills wi me, kind sir,

For I hae a gudeman o my ain.’

12‘Ye lee, ye lee, my bonnie may,Weel do I ken ye lee!For dinna ye mind o the three gowd ringsI gied ye o the new moneye?’

‘Ye lee, ye lee, my bonnie may,

Weel do I ken ye lee!

For dinna ye mind o the three gowd rings

I gied ye o the new moneye?’

13‘O weel do I mind thee, kind sir,O weel do I mind thee;For ae whan ye spak ye lifted up your hat,And ye had a bonnie twinklin ee.’

‘O weel do I mind thee, kind sir,

O weel do I mind thee;

For ae whan ye spak ye lifted up your hat,

And ye had a bonnie twinklin ee.’

14‘O ye need na toil yoursel, my dear,Neither to card nor to spin;For there’s ten pieces I gie unto thee;Keep them for your lying in.’

‘O ye need na toil yoursel, my dear,

Neither to card nor to spin;

For there’s ten pieces I gie unto thee;

Keep them for your lying in.’

15Now she has hame to her father gane,As fast as she could hie;And she was na weel crownd wi joyTill her auld son gat she.

Now she has hame to her father gane,

As fast as she could hie;

And she was na weel crownd wi joy

Till her auld son gat she.

16But she’ll na tell the daddie o itTill father nor to mither,And she’ll na tell the daddie o itTo sister nor to brither.17And word is to the Lochinvar,And word is to him gane,That sic a tenant’s dochterHas born a bastard son:

But she’ll na tell the daddie o it

Till father nor to mither,

And she’ll na tell the daddie o it

To sister nor to brither.

And word is to the Lochinvar,

And word is to him gane,

That sic a tenant’s dochter

Has born a bastard son:

18And she’ll na tell the daddie o itTo father nor to mither,And she’ll na tell the daddie o itTill sister nor to brither.

And she’ll na tell the daddie o it

To father nor to mither,

And she’ll na tell the daddie o it

Till sister nor to brither.

19‘O weel do I ken the reason o that,And the reason weel do I ken;O weel ken I the reason o that;It’s to some o her father’s men.

‘O weel do I ken the reason o that,

And the reason weel do I ken;

O weel ken I the reason o that;

It’s to some o her father’s men.

20‘But I will awa to Littlejohn’s house,Shule them out o the door;For there’s na tenant on a’ my landShall harbour an arrant hure.’

‘But I will awa to Littlejohn’s house,

Shule them out o the door;

For there’s na tenant on a’ my land

Shall harbour an arrant hure.’

21Then out and spak the house-keeper,‘Ye’d better lat her abee;For an onie harm befa this may,A’ the wyte will be on me.’

Then out and spak the house-keeper,

‘Ye’d better lat her abee;

For an onie harm befa this may,

A’ the wyte will be on me.’

22O he has turnd himsel round about,Within himsel thoucht he‘Better do I loe her little fingerThan a’ thy haill bodie.

O he has turnd himsel round about,

Within himsel thoucht he

‘Better do I loe her little finger

Than a’ thy haill bodie.

23‘Gae saddle to me my six coach-mares,Put a’ their harness on,And I will awa to Littlejohn’s houseFor reports o this bastard son.’

‘Gae saddle to me my six coach-mares,

Put a’ their harness on,

And I will awa to Littlejohn’s house

For reports o this bastard son.’

24Now whan he cam to Littlejohn’s house,Littlejohn was at the door:‘Ye rascal, ye rogue, ye impudent dog,Will ye harbour an arrant hure!’

Now whan he cam to Littlejohn’s house,

Littlejohn was at the door:

‘Ye rascal, ye rogue, ye impudent dog,

Will ye harbour an arrant hure!’

25‘O pardon me, my sovereign liege,O pardon me, I pray;Oh that the nicht that she was bornShe’d deed the very neist day!’

‘O pardon me, my sovereign liege,

O pardon me, I pray;

Oh that the nicht that she was born

She’d deed the very neist day!’

26But he is in to his bonnie lassie gane,And has bolted the door behind,And there he has kissd his bonnie lassie sweet,It’s over and over again.

But he is in to his bonnie lassie gane,

And has bolted the door behind,

And there he has kissd his bonnie lassie sweet,

It’s over and over again.

27‘Ye did weel, ye did weel, my bonnie may,To keep the secret twixt me and thee;For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,The lady o ‘t I’ll mak thee.

‘Ye did weel, ye did weel, my bonnie may,

To keep the secret twixt me and thee;

For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,

The lady o ‘t I’ll mak thee.

28‘Come doun, come doun, now gentlemen a’,And set this fair lady on;Mither, ye may milk the ewes as ye will,For she’ll neer milk them again.

‘Come doun, come doun, now gentlemen a’,

And set this fair lady on;

Mither, ye may milk the ewes as ye will,

For she’ll neer milk them again.

29‘For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,O thirty plows and three,And I hae gotten the bonniest mayThat’s in a’ the south countrie.’

‘For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,

O thirty plows and three,

And I hae gotten the bonniest may

That’s in a’ the south countrie.’

B.a.

6should probably come before5.

92. Whare.

22. lassie shew.

51. But when twenty weeks were.

52. O twenty weeks and three.

53. lassie began to grow pale and wan.

61. father’s herd. 64. And wadna bide wi me.

92. loud’s.

11.He was the laird of Auchentrone,With fifty ploughs and three,And he has gotten the bonniest lassIn a’ the south countrie.

11.

He was the laird of Auchentrone,

With fifty ploughs and three,

And he has gotten the bonniest lass

In a’ the south countrie.

33. if he.

Kinloch has made changes in his printed copy.

1. Oh.

13.Changed later toay as she sang, her.

24.Burden: To see.

34.Changed toout owr.

54. axitin the burden. 61. But quhan.

74. neerinserted later afterye’ll.

Burden: It’s ye’ll see me.

81. purse-stringoriginally. 83. in 3.

84. It will; tseems to be crossed out. Iin the burden.

91. fitoriginally,altered tofut,orfot.

133.Originally, An afore the ane he took.

151.Changed toand a bonnie simmer day.

161,2. Quha. 172.Changed toSae loud’s.

The first stanza is given by Motherwell, Minstrelsy, Appendix, xvii, X, under the title‘Ochiltree Walls,’with the variation, O May, bonnie May.

21. Oh.

Kinloch has made changes in his printed copy.

114. theeforme.

44. fair. vain?Cf.M, 84.

APPENDIX

a.Roxburghe Ballads, I, 190, in the Ballad Society’s reprint, ed. W. Chappell, I, 587.b.Rawlinson Ballads, 566, fol. 205.

aWASprinted at London for F. Coules, who, according to Mr Chappell, flourished during the last five years of James First’s reign and throughout that of Charles First: dated by Mr Bullen, 1640.bwas printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright, 1655–80 (Chappell). There is another copy in the Euing collection, No 166, printed for Francis Coles in the Old Bayly, who may be the same person as the printer ofa; and a fourth in the Douce collection, II, 137,verso, without printer’s name. A copy differing fromaby only three words is given by R. H. Evans, Old Ballads, 1810, I, 88.

Burton, in the fifth edition of his Anatomy of Melancholy, Oxford, 1638, p. 536, says: “The very rusticks and hog-rubbers ... have their ballads, country tunes, O the broome, the bonny, bonny broome,” etc. (Chappell). This remark is not found in the fourth edition, Oxford, 1632, p. 544. Concerning the air, see Chappell’s Popular Music, pp. 458–61, 613, 783.

The Lovely Northerne Lasse.

Who in this ditty, here complaining, shewesWhat harme she got, milking her dadyes ewes.

Who in this ditty, here complaining, shewes

What harme she got, milking her dadyes ewes.

To a pleasant Scotch tune, called The broom of Cowden Knowes.

1Through Liddersdale as lately I went,I musing on did passe;I heard a maid was discontent,she sighd, and said, Alas!All maids that ever deceived wasbeare a part of these my woes,For once I was a bonny lasse,when I milkt my dadyes ewes.With, O the broome, the bonny broome,the broome of Cowdon Knowes!Faine would I be in the North Countrey,to milke my dadyes ewes.2‘My love into the fields did come,when my dady was at home;Sugred words he gave me there,praisd me for such a one.His honey breath and lips so soft,and his alluring eyeAnd tempting tong, hath woo’d me oft,now forces me to cry,All maids, &c.3‘He joyed me with his pretty chat,so well discourse could he,Talking of this thing and of that,which greatly likëd me.I was so greatly taken with his speech,and with his comely making;He usëd all the meanes could beto inchant me with his speaking.4‘In Danby Forest I was borne;my beauty did excell;My parents dearely lovëd metill my belly began to swell.I might have beene a prince’s peerewhen I came over the knoes,Till the shepherds boy beguilëd me,milking my dadyes ewes.5‘When once I felt my belly swell,no longer might I abide;My mother put me out of doores,and bangd me backe and side.Then did I range the world so wide,wandering about the knoes,Cursing the boy that helpëd meto fold my dadyes ewes.6‘Who would have thought a boy so youngwould have usd a maiden soAs to allure her with his tongue,and then from her to goe?Which hath also procured my woe,to credit his faire shewes,Which now too late repent I doe,the milking of the ewes.7‘I often since have wisht that Ihad never seen his face;I needed not thus mournefullyhave sighed, and said Alas!I might have matchëd with the best,as all the country knowes,Had I escaped the shepherds boyhelpt me to fold my ewes.8‘All maidens faire, then have a carewhen you a milking goe;Trust not to young men’s tempting tongues,that will deceive you so.Them you shall finde to be unkindeand glory in your woes;For the shepheards boy beguilëd meefolding my dadyes ewes.’9‘If you your virgin honours keepe,esteeming of them deare,You need not then to waile and weepe,or your parents anger feare.As I have said, of them bewarewould glory in your woes;You then may sing with merry cheere,milking your dadyes ewes.’10A young man, hearing her complaint,did pity this her case,Saying to her, Sweet beautious saint,I grieve so faire a faceShould sorrow so; then, sweeting, know,to ease thee of thy woes,Ile goe with thee to the North Country,to milke thy dadyes ewes.11‘Leander like, I will remainestill constant to thee ever,As Piramus, or Troyalus,till death our lives shall sever.Let me be hated evermore,of all men that me knowes,If false to thee, sweet heart, I bee,milking thy dadyes ewes.’12Then modestly she did reply,‘Might I so happy beeOf you to finde a husband kinde,and for to marrie me,Then to you I would during lifecontinue constant still,And be a true, obedient wife,observing of your will.With, O the broome, the bonny broome,the broome of Cowden Knoes!Faine would I be in the North Country,milking my dadyes ewes.13Thus, with a gentle soft imbrace,he tooke her in his armes,And with a kisse he smiling said,‘Ile shield thee from all harmes,And instantly will marry thee,to ease thee of thy woes,And goe with thee to the North Country,to milke thy dadyes ewes.’With, O the broome, the bonny broome,the broome of Cowden Knoes!Faine would I be in the North Country,to milke my dadyes ewes.

Through Liddersdale as lately I went,

I musing on did passe;

I heard a maid was discontent,

she sighd, and said, Alas!

All maids that ever deceived was

beare a part of these my woes,

For once I was a bonny lasse,

when I milkt my dadyes ewes.

With, O the broome, the bonny broome,

the broome of Cowdon Knowes!

Faine would I be in the North Countrey,

to milke my dadyes ewes.

2‘My love into the fields did come,when my dady was at home;Sugred words he gave me there,praisd me for such a one.His honey breath and lips so soft,and his alluring eyeAnd tempting tong, hath woo’d me oft,now forces me to cry,All maids, &c.

‘My love into the fields did come,

when my dady was at home;

Sugred words he gave me there,

praisd me for such a one.

His honey breath and lips so soft,

and his alluring eye

And tempting tong, hath woo’d me oft,

now forces me to cry,

All maids, &c.

3‘He joyed me with his pretty chat,so well discourse could he,Talking of this thing and of that,which greatly likëd me.I was so greatly taken with his speech,and with his comely making;He usëd all the meanes could beto inchant me with his speaking.

‘He joyed me with his pretty chat,

so well discourse could he,

Talking of this thing and of that,

which greatly likëd me.

I was so greatly taken with his speech,

and with his comely making;

He usëd all the meanes could be

to inchant me with his speaking.

4‘In Danby Forest I was borne;my beauty did excell;My parents dearely lovëd metill my belly began to swell.I might have beene a prince’s peerewhen I came over the knoes,Till the shepherds boy beguilëd me,milking my dadyes ewes.

‘In Danby Forest I was borne;

my beauty did excell;

My parents dearely lovëd me

till my belly began to swell.

I might have beene a prince’s peere

when I came over the knoes,

Till the shepherds boy beguilëd me,

milking my dadyes ewes.

5‘When once I felt my belly swell,no longer might I abide;My mother put me out of doores,and bangd me backe and side.Then did I range the world so wide,wandering about the knoes,Cursing the boy that helpëd meto fold my dadyes ewes.

‘When once I felt my belly swell,

no longer might I abide;

My mother put me out of doores,

and bangd me backe and side.

Then did I range the world so wide,

wandering about the knoes,

Cursing the boy that helpëd me

to fold my dadyes ewes.

6‘Who would have thought a boy so youngwould have usd a maiden soAs to allure her with his tongue,and then from her to goe?Which hath also procured my woe,to credit his faire shewes,Which now too late repent I doe,the milking of the ewes.

‘Who would have thought a boy so young

would have usd a maiden so

As to allure her with his tongue,

and then from her to goe?

Which hath also procured my woe,

to credit his faire shewes,

Which now too late repent I doe,

the milking of the ewes.

7‘I often since have wisht that Ihad never seen his face;I needed not thus mournefullyhave sighed, and said Alas!I might have matchëd with the best,as all the country knowes,Had I escaped the shepherds boyhelpt me to fold my ewes.

‘I often since have wisht that I

had never seen his face;

I needed not thus mournefully

have sighed, and said Alas!

I might have matchëd with the best,

as all the country knowes,

Had I escaped the shepherds boy

helpt me to fold my ewes.

8‘All maidens faire, then have a carewhen you a milking goe;Trust not to young men’s tempting tongues,that will deceive you so.Them you shall finde to be unkindeand glory in your woes;For the shepheards boy beguilëd meefolding my dadyes ewes.’

‘All maidens faire, then have a care

when you a milking goe;

Trust not to young men’s tempting tongues,

that will deceive you so.

Them you shall finde to be unkinde

and glory in your woes;

For the shepheards boy beguilëd mee

folding my dadyes ewes.’

9‘If you your virgin honours keepe,esteeming of them deare,You need not then to waile and weepe,or your parents anger feare.As I have said, of them bewarewould glory in your woes;You then may sing with merry cheere,milking your dadyes ewes.’

‘If you your virgin honours keepe,

esteeming of them deare,

You need not then to waile and weepe,

or your parents anger feare.

As I have said, of them beware

would glory in your woes;

You then may sing with merry cheere,

milking your dadyes ewes.’

10A young man, hearing her complaint,did pity this her case,Saying to her, Sweet beautious saint,I grieve so faire a faceShould sorrow so; then, sweeting, know,to ease thee of thy woes,Ile goe with thee to the North Country,to milke thy dadyes ewes.

A young man, hearing her complaint,

did pity this her case,

Saying to her, Sweet beautious saint,

I grieve so faire a face

Should sorrow so; then, sweeting, know,

to ease thee of thy woes,

Ile goe with thee to the North Country,

to milke thy dadyes ewes.

11‘Leander like, I will remainestill constant to thee ever,As Piramus, or Troyalus,till death our lives shall sever.Let me be hated evermore,of all men that me knowes,If false to thee, sweet heart, I bee,milking thy dadyes ewes.’

‘Leander like, I will remaine

still constant to thee ever,

As Piramus, or Troyalus,

till death our lives shall sever.

Let me be hated evermore,

of all men that me knowes,

If false to thee, sweet heart, I bee,

milking thy dadyes ewes.’

12Then modestly she did reply,‘Might I so happy beeOf you to finde a husband kinde,and for to marrie me,Then to you I would during lifecontinue constant still,And be a true, obedient wife,observing of your will.With, O the broome, the bonny broome,the broome of Cowden Knoes!Faine would I be in the North Country,milking my dadyes ewes.

Then modestly she did reply,

‘Might I so happy bee

Of you to finde a husband kinde,

and for to marrie me,

Then to you I would during life

continue constant still,

And be a true, obedient wife,

observing of your will.

With, O the broome, the bonny broome,

the broome of Cowden Knoes!

Faine would I be in the North Country,

milking my dadyes ewes.

13Thus, with a gentle soft imbrace,he tooke her in his armes,And with a kisse he smiling said,‘Ile shield thee from all harmes,And instantly will marry thee,to ease thee of thy woes,And goe with thee to the North Country,to milke thy dadyes ewes.’With, O the broome, the bonny broome,the broome of Cowden Knoes!Faine would I be in the North Country,to milke my dadyes ewes.

Thus, with a gentle soft imbrace,

he tooke her in his armes,

And with a kisse he smiling said,

‘Ile shield thee from all harmes,

And instantly will marry thee,

to ease thee of thy woes,

And goe with thee to the North Country,

to milke thy dadyes ewes.’

With, O the broome, the bonny broome,

the broome of Cowden Knoes!

Faine would I be in the North Country,

to milke my dadyes ewes.

After7: The Second Part.

Title: in the ditty.

21. field.

22. from home.

56. amongstforabout.

63. So to.

66. hath alas.

7.Wanting.

85. Then.

91. virgins.

105. I know.

133. myforthy.

139. With O the broom, &c.

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