51. slewshould of course bewounded,orhurt,as inA91,B91,D71,E81,I71,K71,Q61,2.
51. slewshould of course bewounded,orhurt,as inA91,B91,D71,E81,I71,K71,Q61,2.
P. 180.Dstands as follows in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 10, ‘The Water of Gamry.’
P. 180.Dstands as follows in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 10, ‘The Water of Gamry.’
1‘Willie is fair, an Willë’s rair,An Willë’s wondres bonny,An Willë has promised to marey me,Gin ever he marred ony.’2‘Ye’s gett Jeamie, or ye’s gett Jonny,Or ye’s gett bonny Piter;Ye’s gett the walle of a’ my sins,Bat live to me Willë the writter.’3‘I winnë ha Jamie, I winnë ha Jonny,Nor will I ha bonny Peter;I winnë ha ony of yer sins,In I gett na Willie the writter.’4Ther was three score an ten brisk young menWas boun to brid-stell we him.5‘Ride on, ride on, my merry men a’,I forget some thing behine me;I [ha] forgetten my mider’s blissing,To boun to bridstell we me.’6‘God’s blissing an mine gae we ye, my son Willie,A’ the blissings of God ga we ye;For y’er na an hour but bare ninten,Fan y’er gain to meet yer Meggey.’7They road on, an ferder on,Till they came to the water of Gamry;An they all wen safe throu,Unless it was Suet Willie.8For the first an step att Willie’s hors steped,He steped to the bridel;The nixt an step att Wellie’s hors steped,Toom grue Willë’s sadle.9They rod on, an forder on,Till they came to the kirk of Gamry,. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .10. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .‘A rounin, a rouning,’ she says,‘An fat means a’ this rouning?’11Out spak the bonny bried,Just att the kirk of Gamrie;‘Far is the man that was to gee me his hanThis day att the kirk of Gamry?’12Out spak his breder John,An O bat he was sorry!‘It fears me sair, my bonny brid,He slipes our sune in Gamry.’13The ribbons they wer on her hare,They wer thik an mony;She rive them a’, late them doun faa,An she is on to the water of Gamry.14She sought it up, she sought it doun,She sought it braid an narrow,An the depest pot in a’ Gamry,Ther she got Suit Willie.15She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had don befor, O:‘Baith our miders sall be alike sory,For we’s baith slep soun in Gamry.’
1‘Willie is fair, an Willë’s rair,An Willë’s wondres bonny,An Willë has promised to marey me,Gin ever he marred ony.’2‘Ye’s gett Jeamie, or ye’s gett Jonny,Or ye’s gett bonny Piter;Ye’s gett the walle of a’ my sins,Bat live to me Willë the writter.’3‘I winnë ha Jamie, I winnë ha Jonny,Nor will I ha bonny Peter;I winnë ha ony of yer sins,In I gett na Willie the writter.’4Ther was three score an ten brisk young menWas boun to brid-stell we him.5‘Ride on, ride on, my merry men a’,I forget some thing behine me;I [ha] forgetten my mider’s blissing,To boun to bridstell we me.’6‘God’s blissing an mine gae we ye, my son Willie,A’ the blissings of God ga we ye;For y’er na an hour but bare ninten,Fan y’er gain to meet yer Meggey.’7They road on, an ferder on,Till they came to the water of Gamry;An they all wen safe throu,Unless it was Suet Willie.8For the first an step att Willie’s hors steped,He steped to the bridel;The nixt an step att Wellie’s hors steped,Toom grue Willë’s sadle.9They rod on, an forder on,Till they came to the kirk of Gamry,. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .10. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .‘A rounin, a rouning,’ she says,‘An fat means a’ this rouning?’11Out spak the bonny bried,Just att the kirk of Gamrie;‘Far is the man that was to gee me his hanThis day att the kirk of Gamry?’12Out spak his breder John,An O bat he was sorry!‘It fears me sair, my bonny brid,He slipes our sune in Gamry.’13The ribbons they wer on her hare,They wer thik an mony;She rive them a’, late them doun faa,An she is on to the water of Gamry.14She sought it up, she sought it doun,She sought it braid an narrow,An the depest pot in a’ Gamry,Ther she got Suit Willie.15She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had don befor, O:‘Baith our miders sall be alike sory,For we’s baith slep soun in Gamry.’
1‘Willie is fair, an Willë’s rair,An Willë’s wondres bonny,An Willë has promised to marey me,Gin ever he marred ony.’
1
‘Willie is fair, an Willë’s rair,
An Willë’s wondres bonny,
An Willë has promised to marey me,
Gin ever he marred ony.’
2‘Ye’s gett Jeamie, or ye’s gett Jonny,Or ye’s gett bonny Piter;Ye’s gett the walle of a’ my sins,Bat live to me Willë the writter.’
2
‘Ye’s gett Jeamie, or ye’s gett Jonny,
Or ye’s gett bonny Piter;
Ye’s gett the walle of a’ my sins,
Bat live to me Willë the writter.’
3‘I winnë ha Jamie, I winnë ha Jonny,Nor will I ha bonny Peter;I winnë ha ony of yer sins,In I gett na Willie the writter.’
3
‘I winnë ha Jamie, I winnë ha Jonny,
Nor will I ha bonny Peter;
I winnë ha ony of yer sins,
In I gett na Willie the writter.’
4Ther was three score an ten brisk young menWas boun to brid-stell we him.
4
Ther was three score an ten brisk young men
Was boun to brid-stell we him.
5‘Ride on, ride on, my merry men a’,I forget some thing behine me;I [ha] forgetten my mider’s blissing,To boun to bridstell we me.’
5
‘Ride on, ride on, my merry men a’,
I forget some thing behine me;
I [ha] forgetten my mider’s blissing,
To boun to bridstell we me.’
6‘God’s blissing an mine gae we ye, my son Willie,A’ the blissings of God ga we ye;For y’er na an hour but bare ninten,Fan y’er gain to meet yer Meggey.’
6
‘God’s blissing an mine gae we ye, my son Willie,
A’ the blissings of God ga we ye;
For y’er na an hour but bare ninten,
Fan y’er gain to meet yer Meggey.’
7They road on, an ferder on,Till they came to the water of Gamry;An they all wen safe throu,Unless it was Suet Willie.
7
They road on, an ferder on,
Till they came to the water of Gamry;
An they all wen safe throu,
Unless it was Suet Willie.
8For the first an step att Willie’s hors steped,He steped to the bridel;The nixt an step att Wellie’s hors steped,Toom grue Willë’s sadle.
8
For the first an step att Willie’s hors steped,
He steped to the bridel;
The nixt an step att Wellie’s hors steped,
Toom grue Willë’s sadle.
9They rod on, an forder on,Till they came to the kirk of Gamry,. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .
9
They rod on, an forder on,
Till they came to the kirk of Gamry,
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
10. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .‘A rounin, a rouning,’ she says,‘An fat means a’ this rouning?’
10
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
‘A rounin, a rouning,’ she says,
‘An fat means a’ this rouning?’
11Out spak the bonny bried,Just att the kirk of Gamrie;‘Far is the man that was to gee me his hanThis day att the kirk of Gamry?’
11
Out spak the bonny bried,
Just att the kirk of Gamrie;
‘Far is the man that was to gee me his han
This day att the kirk of Gamry?’
12Out spak his breder John,An O bat he was sorry!‘It fears me sair, my bonny brid,He slipes our sune in Gamry.’
12
Out spak his breder John,
An O bat he was sorry!
‘It fears me sair, my bonny brid,
He slipes our sune in Gamry.’
13The ribbons they wer on her hare,They wer thik an mony;She rive them a’, late them doun faa,An she is on to the water of Gamry.
13
The ribbons they wer on her hare,
They wer thik an mony;
She rive them a’, late them doun faa,
An she is on to the water of Gamry.
14She sought it up, she sought it doun,She sought it braid an narrow,An the depest pot in a’ Gamry,Ther she got Suit Willie.
14
She sought it up, she sought it doun,
She sought it braid an narrow,
An the depest pot in a’ Gamry,
Ther she got Suit Willie.
15She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had don befor, O:‘Baith our miders sall be alike sory,For we’s baith slep soun in Gamry.’
15
She has kissed his comly mouth,
As she had don befor, O:
‘Baith our miders sall be alike sory,
For we’s baith slep soun in Gamry.’
P. 187.Ais now given as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” ‘Clide’s Water,’ No 11. It will be observed that 19, 20 repeat No 215,D, 13, 14 (14, 15, of the copy just given).
P. 187.Ais now given as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” ‘Clide’s Water,’ No 11. It will be observed that 19, 20 repeat No 215,D, 13, 14 (14, 15, of the copy just given).
1‘Ye gie corn to my hors,An meatt to my man,For I will gai to my true-love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’2‘O stay att home, my son Willie,This a bare night we me;The best bed in a’ my houseSall be well made to the.’3‘I care na for your beds, mider,I care na a pin;For I ill gae to my love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’4‘O stay, my son Willie,This night we me;The best hen in a’ mey reastSall be well made ready for the.’5‘I care na for your heans, midder,I care na a pin;For I ull gae to my love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’6‘Gin ye winnë stay, my son Willie,This a bare night we me,Gin Claid’s water be dip an fue of flud,My malicen droun ye in.’7He road up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den;The roring of Clid’s waterWod ha flied ten thousand men.8‘O spair me, Claid’s water,Spare me as I gaa!Make me yer wrak as I come back,Bat spare me as I gaa!’9He raid in, an forder in,Till he came to the chin;An he raid in, an forder in,Till he came to dray lan.10An fan he came to his love’s gatesHe tirled att the pin:‘Open yer gates, May Meggie,Open yer gates to me,For my bets is fue of Claid’s water,An the rain rins on a’ my chine.’11‘I ha ne loves therout,’ she says,‘I haa ne love theren;My true-love is in my arms tua,An nean will I latt in.’12‘Open yer gates, Meggie,This night to me,For Clide’s water is full of flood,An my mider’s mallison will droun me in.’13‘An of my chambers is full of corn,’ she says,‘Anether is full of hay,The other is full of gentelmen,An they winnë remove till day.’14Out waked her May Meggie,Out of her drussie dream:‘I dreamed a dream nou san the streen,God read a’ dreams to gued!That my true-love WillieWas staning att my bed-feet.’15‘Nou lay still, my a dather,An keep my back fraa the call;It’s na the space of haf an hourSayn he gade fra your hall.’16‘Hey, Willie! an hou, Willie!An Willie, winnë ye turn agen?’But ay the louder that she crayedHe read agenst the wind.17He raid up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den,An the roring that was in Clid’s waterWad ha fleed ten thousand men.18He raid inTell he came to the chine,An he raid forder in,Bat never mare came out agen.19She sought him up, she sought him doun,She sought him braid an narrou;In the depest pot in a’ Claid’s water,Ther she gat Suit Willie.20She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had den afore:‘Baith our midders sall be alike sorry,For we’s bath slipe soun in Clide’s water.’21Ther was na mare seen of that gued lordBat his hat frae his head;There was na mare seen of that gued ladyBat her keem an her sneed.22Ther mideers went up an doun the water,Saying, Clayd’s water din us wrong!
1‘Ye gie corn to my hors,An meatt to my man,For I will gai to my true-love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’2‘O stay att home, my son Willie,This a bare night we me;The best bed in a’ my houseSall be well made to the.’3‘I care na for your beds, mider,I care na a pin;For I ill gae to my love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’4‘O stay, my son Willie,This night we me;The best hen in a’ mey reastSall be well made ready for the.’5‘I care na for your heans, midder,I care na a pin;For I ull gae to my love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’6‘Gin ye winnë stay, my son Willie,This a bare night we me,Gin Claid’s water be dip an fue of flud,My malicen droun ye in.’7He road up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den;The roring of Clid’s waterWod ha flied ten thousand men.8‘O spair me, Claid’s water,Spare me as I gaa!Make me yer wrak as I come back,Bat spare me as I gaa!’9He raid in, an forder in,Till he came to the chin;An he raid in, an forder in,Till he came to dray lan.10An fan he came to his love’s gatesHe tirled att the pin:‘Open yer gates, May Meggie,Open yer gates to me,For my bets is fue of Claid’s water,An the rain rins on a’ my chine.’11‘I ha ne loves therout,’ she says,‘I haa ne love theren;My true-love is in my arms tua,An nean will I latt in.’12‘Open yer gates, Meggie,This night to me,For Clide’s water is full of flood,An my mider’s mallison will droun me in.’13‘An of my chambers is full of corn,’ she says,‘Anether is full of hay,The other is full of gentelmen,An they winnë remove till day.’14Out waked her May Meggie,Out of her drussie dream:‘I dreamed a dream nou san the streen,God read a’ dreams to gued!That my true-love WillieWas staning att my bed-feet.’15‘Nou lay still, my a dather,An keep my back fraa the call;It’s na the space of haf an hourSayn he gade fra your hall.’16‘Hey, Willie! an hou, Willie!An Willie, winnë ye turn agen?’But ay the louder that she crayedHe read agenst the wind.17He raid up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den,An the roring that was in Clid’s waterWad ha fleed ten thousand men.18He raid inTell he came to the chine,An he raid forder in,Bat never mare came out agen.19She sought him up, she sought him doun,She sought him braid an narrou;In the depest pot in a’ Claid’s water,Ther she gat Suit Willie.20She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had den afore:‘Baith our midders sall be alike sorry,For we’s bath slipe soun in Clide’s water.’21Ther was na mare seen of that gued lordBat his hat frae his head;There was na mare seen of that gued ladyBat her keem an her sneed.22Ther mideers went up an doun the water,Saying, Clayd’s water din us wrong!
1‘Ye gie corn to my hors,An meatt to my man,For I will gai to my true-love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’
1
‘Ye gie corn to my hors,
An meatt to my man,
For I will gai to my true-love’s gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
2‘O stay att home, my son Willie,This a bare night we me;The best bed in a’ my houseSall be well made to the.’
2
‘O stay att home, my son Willie,
This a bare night we me;
The best bed in a’ my house
Sall be well made to the.’
3‘I care na for your beds, mider,I care na a pin;For I ill gae to my love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’
3
‘I care na for your beds, mider,
I care na a pin;
For I ill gae to my love’s gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
4‘O stay, my son Willie,This night we me;The best hen in a’ mey reastSall be well made ready for the.’
4
‘O stay, my son Willie,
This night we me;
The best hen in a’ mey reast
Sall be well made ready for the.’
5‘I care na for your heans, midder,I care na a pin;For I ull gae to my love’s gatesThis night, gin I can wine.’
5
‘I care na for your heans, midder,
I care na a pin;
For I ull gae to my love’s gates
This night, gin I can wine.’
6‘Gin ye winnë stay, my son Willie,This a bare night we me,Gin Claid’s water be dip an fue of flud,My malicen droun ye in.’
6
‘Gin ye winnë stay, my son Willie,
This a bare night we me,
Gin Claid’s water be dip an fue of flud,
My malicen droun ye in.’
7He road up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den;The roring of Clid’s waterWod ha flied ten thousand men.
7
He road up yon high hill,
An doun yon douë den;
The roring of Clid’s water
Wod ha flied ten thousand men.
8‘O spair me, Claid’s water,Spare me as I gaa!Make me yer wrak as I come back,Bat spare me as I gaa!’
8
‘O spair me, Claid’s water,
Spare me as I gaa!
Make me yer wrak as I come back,
Bat spare me as I gaa!’
9He raid in, an forder in,Till he came to the chin;An he raid in, an forder in,Till he came to dray lan.
9
He raid in, an forder in,
Till he came to the chin;
An he raid in, an forder in,
Till he came to dray lan.
10An fan he came to his love’s gatesHe tirled att the pin:‘Open yer gates, May Meggie,Open yer gates to me,For my bets is fue of Claid’s water,An the rain rins on a’ my chine.’
10
An fan he came to his love’s gates
He tirled att the pin:
‘Open yer gates, May Meggie,
Open yer gates to me,
For my bets is fue of Claid’s water,
An the rain rins on a’ my chine.’
11‘I ha ne loves therout,’ she says,‘I haa ne love theren;My true-love is in my arms tua,An nean will I latt in.’
11
‘I ha ne loves therout,’ she says,
‘I haa ne love theren;
My true-love is in my arms tua,
An nean will I latt in.’
12‘Open yer gates, Meggie,This night to me,For Clide’s water is full of flood,An my mider’s mallison will droun me in.’
12
‘Open yer gates, Meggie,
This night to me,
For Clide’s water is full of flood,
An my mider’s mallison will droun me in.’
13‘An of my chambers is full of corn,’ she says,‘Anether is full of hay,The other is full of gentelmen,An they winnë remove till day.’
13
‘An of my chambers is full of corn,’ she says,
‘Anether is full of hay,
The other is full of gentelmen,
An they winnë remove till day.’
14Out waked her May Meggie,Out of her drussie dream:‘I dreamed a dream nou san the streen,God read a’ dreams to gued!That my true-love WillieWas staning att my bed-feet.’
14
Out waked her May Meggie,
Out of her drussie dream:
‘I dreamed a dream nou san the streen,
God read a’ dreams to gued!
That my true-love Willie
Was staning att my bed-feet.’
15‘Nou lay still, my a dather,An keep my back fraa the call;It’s na the space of haf an hourSayn he gade fra your hall.’
15
‘Nou lay still, my a dather,
An keep my back fraa the call;
It’s na the space of haf an hour
Sayn he gade fra your hall.’
16‘Hey, Willie! an hou, Willie!An Willie, winnë ye turn agen?’But ay the louder that she crayedHe read agenst the wind.
16
‘Hey, Willie! an hou, Willie!
An Willie, winnë ye turn agen?’
But ay the louder that she crayed
He read agenst the wind.
17He raid up yon high hill,An doun yon douë den,An the roring that was in Clid’s waterWad ha fleed ten thousand men.
17
He raid up yon high hill,
An doun yon douë den,
An the roring that was in Clid’s water
Wad ha fleed ten thousand men.
18He raid inTell he came to the chine,An he raid forder in,Bat never mare came out agen.
18
He raid in
Tell he came to the chine,
An he raid forder in,
Bat never mare came out agen.
19She sought him up, she sought him doun,She sought him braid an narrou;In the depest pot in a’ Claid’s water,Ther she gat Suit Willie.
19
She sought him up, she sought him doun,
She sought him braid an narrou;
In the depest pot in a’ Claid’s water,
Ther she gat Suit Willie.
20She has kissed his comly mouth,As she had den afore:‘Baith our midders sall be alike sorry,For we’s bath slipe soun in Clide’s water.’
20
She has kissed his comly mouth,
As she had den afore:
‘Baith our midders sall be alike sorry,
For we’s bath slipe soun in Clide’s water.’
21Ther was na mare seen of that gued lordBat his hat frae his head;There was na mare seen of that gued ladyBat her keem an her sneed.
21
Ther was na mare seen of that gued lord
Bat his hat frae his head;
There was na mare seen of that gued lady
Bat her keem an her sneed.
22Ther mideers went up an doun the water,Saying, Clayd’s water din us wrong!
22
Ther mideers went up an doun the water,
Saying, Clayd’s water din us wrong!
106. ona.184. therfollowsagen,intended perhaps as a beginning of21.
106. ona.
184. therfollowsagen,intended perhaps as a beginning of21.
P. 195.D b.Macmath MS., p. 105; from the recitation of Mary Cochrane (Mrs Garmory), Abbey-yard, Crossmichael, August 12, 1893.
1Bonny May to the ewe-buchts is gane,To milk her daddie’s yowes,And aye as she sang, her bonny voice it rangOutoer the taps o the knowes, knowes,Outoer the taps o the knowes.2. . . . . .. . . . . .A troop o noble gentlemenCame riding merrily by.5He took her by the middle sae sma,And by the green gown sleeve,And he’s laid her down on the dewy, dewy ground,And he’s askëd no man’s leave.9He’s mounted on his milk-white steed,And he’s rode after his men,And all that his merry men said to himWas, Dear master ye’ve tarried long.10‘I have ridden east and I have ridden west,And I’ve ridden among the knowes,But the bonniest lass that eer I sawWas milking her daddie’s yowes.’11She’s taen the milk-pail on her head,And she’s gane singing hame,And all that her father said to herWas, Dear daughter, ye’ve tarried long.13‘O there cam a tod amang my yowes,An a waefu tod was he;Afore he had taen my wee yowe-lamb,I wad rather he had taen ither three.’15It happened on a day, and a bonny summer day,As she was ca’in in her father’s kye,The same troop o noble gentlemenCame riding merrily by.16One of them calls outLassie, have ye got a man?She turned her head right saucy about,Saying, I’ve got ane at hame.17‘Hold your tongue, my bonny lass,How loud I hear ye lee!Do you no remember the caul mirky nichtWhen ye were in the yowe-buchts wi me?’18He’s ordered one of his merry menTo licht and set her on behind him,Saying, Your father may ca in his kye when he likes,For they’ll neer be ca’ed in by thee.19‘For I am the laird o the Ochiltree walls,I have fifty ploughs and three,And I have got the bonniest lassIn a’ the North Countrie.’
1Bonny May to the ewe-buchts is gane,To milk her daddie’s yowes,And aye as she sang, her bonny voice it rangOutoer the taps o the knowes, knowes,Outoer the taps o the knowes.2. . . . . .. . . . . .A troop o noble gentlemenCame riding merrily by.5He took her by the middle sae sma,And by the green gown sleeve,And he’s laid her down on the dewy, dewy ground,And he’s askëd no man’s leave.9He’s mounted on his milk-white steed,And he’s rode after his men,And all that his merry men said to himWas, Dear master ye’ve tarried long.10‘I have ridden east and I have ridden west,And I’ve ridden among the knowes,But the bonniest lass that eer I sawWas milking her daddie’s yowes.’11She’s taen the milk-pail on her head,And she’s gane singing hame,And all that her father said to herWas, Dear daughter, ye’ve tarried long.13‘O there cam a tod amang my yowes,An a waefu tod was he;Afore he had taen my wee yowe-lamb,I wad rather he had taen ither three.’15It happened on a day, and a bonny summer day,As she was ca’in in her father’s kye,The same troop o noble gentlemenCame riding merrily by.16One of them calls outLassie, have ye got a man?She turned her head right saucy about,Saying, I’ve got ane at hame.17‘Hold your tongue, my bonny lass,How loud I hear ye lee!Do you no remember the caul mirky nichtWhen ye were in the yowe-buchts wi me?’18He’s ordered one of his merry menTo licht and set her on behind him,Saying, Your father may ca in his kye when he likes,For they’ll neer be ca’ed in by thee.19‘For I am the laird o the Ochiltree walls,I have fifty ploughs and three,And I have got the bonniest lassIn a’ the North Countrie.’
1Bonny May to the ewe-buchts is gane,To milk her daddie’s yowes,And aye as she sang, her bonny voice it rangOutoer the taps o the knowes, knowes,Outoer the taps o the knowes.
1
Bonny May to the ewe-buchts is gane,
To milk her daddie’s yowes,
And aye as she sang, her bonny voice it rang
Outoer the taps o the knowes, knowes,
Outoer the taps o the knowes.
2. . . . . .. . . . . .A troop o noble gentlemenCame riding merrily by.
2
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
A troop o noble gentlemen
Came riding merrily by.
5He took her by the middle sae sma,And by the green gown sleeve,And he’s laid her down on the dewy, dewy ground,And he’s askëd no man’s leave.
5
He took her by the middle sae sma,
And by the green gown sleeve,
And he’s laid her down on the dewy, dewy ground,
And he’s askëd no man’s leave.
9He’s mounted on his milk-white steed,And he’s rode after his men,And all that his merry men said to himWas, Dear master ye’ve tarried long.
9
He’s mounted on his milk-white steed,
And he’s rode after his men,
And all that his merry men said to him
Was, Dear master ye’ve tarried long.
10‘I have ridden east and I have ridden west,And I’ve ridden among the knowes,But the bonniest lass that eer I sawWas milking her daddie’s yowes.’
10
‘I have ridden east and I have ridden west,
And I’ve ridden among the knowes,
But the bonniest lass that eer I saw
Was milking her daddie’s yowes.’
11She’s taen the milk-pail on her head,And she’s gane singing hame,And all that her father said to herWas, Dear daughter, ye’ve tarried long.
11
She’s taen the milk-pail on her head,
And she’s gane singing hame,
And all that her father said to her
Was, Dear daughter, ye’ve tarried long.
13‘O there cam a tod amang my yowes,An a waefu tod was he;Afore he had taen my wee yowe-lamb,I wad rather he had taen ither three.’
13
‘O there cam a tod amang my yowes,
An a waefu tod was he;
Afore he had taen my wee yowe-lamb,
I wad rather he had taen ither three.’
15It happened on a day, and a bonny summer day,As she was ca’in in her father’s kye,The same troop o noble gentlemenCame riding merrily by.
15
It happened on a day, and a bonny summer day,
As she was ca’in in her father’s kye,
The same troop o noble gentlemen
Came riding merrily by.
16One of them calls outLassie, have ye got a man?She turned her head right saucy about,Saying, I’ve got ane at hame.
16
One of them calls out
Lassie, have ye got a man?
She turned her head right saucy about,
Saying, I’ve got ane at hame.
17‘Hold your tongue, my bonny lass,How loud I hear ye lee!Do you no remember the caul mirky nichtWhen ye were in the yowe-buchts wi me?’
17
‘Hold your tongue, my bonny lass,
How loud I hear ye lee!
Do you no remember the caul mirky nicht
When ye were in the yowe-buchts wi me?’
18He’s ordered one of his merry menTo licht and set her on behind him,Saying, Your father may ca in his kye when he likes,For they’ll neer be ca’ed in by thee.
18
He’s ordered one of his merry men
To licht and set her on behind him,
Saying, Your father may ca in his kye when he likes,
For they’ll neer be ca’ed in by thee.
19‘For I am the laird o the Ochiltree walls,I have fifty ploughs and three,And I have got the bonniest lassIn a’ the North Countrie.’
19
‘For I am the laird o the Ochiltree walls,
I have fifty ploughs and three,
And I have got the bonniest lass
In a’ the North Countrie.’
P. 212. Rev. S. Baring-Gould has pointed me to a printed copy of this ballad, considerably corrupted, to be sure, but also considerably older than the traditional versions. It is blended at the beginning with a “Thyme” song, which itself is apt to be mixed up with ‘I sowed the seeds of love.’ The second stanza is from the “Thyme” song; the third is a traditional variation of a stanza in ‘I sowed the seeds of love.’ (See the piece which follows this.) The ballad begins with the fourth stanza, and the fifth is corrupted by being transferred from the gardener to the maid. Mr Baring-Gould has lately taken down copies of the “Thyme” song in the west of England. See one in Songs and Ballads of the West, No 7, and the note thereto in the preface to Part IV of that work, p. xv; also Campbell’s Albyn’s Anthology, I, 40, Bruce and Stokoe, Northumbrian Minstrelsy, p. 90, and Chappell’s Popular Music, p. 521 f. Rev. S. Baring-Gould has given me two copies, one from recitation, the other from “a broadside published by Bebbington, Manchester, Brit. Mus., 1876. d., A Collection of Songs and Broadsides, I, 264.”
Five Excellent New Songs. Edinburgh. Printed and sold by William Forrest, at the head of the Cowgate, 1766. British Museum, 11621. b. 6 (8).
1The wakeing all the winter night,And the tippling at the wine,And the courting of a bonny lass,Will break this heart of mine.Brave sailing here, my dear,And better sailing there,Brave sailing in my love’s arms,O give I were there!2I had a bed of thyme,And it flourishd night and day,There came by a squire’s sonThat stole my heart away.Brave sailing, etc.3Then up comes the gardener-lad,And he gave me profers free,He gave to me the jully-flowers,To clothe my gay bodie.4The gardener stood in his garden,And the prim-rose in his hand,And there he spi’d his own true love,As tight’s a willy wand.5‘If he’ll be a lover true,’ she said,‘A lover true indeed,And buy all the flowers of my garden,I’ll shape to thee a weed.’Brave sailing, etc.6‘The prim-rose shall be on thy head,And the red rose on thy breast,And the white-rose shall be for a smock,To cover thy body next.Brave sailing, etc.7‘Thy glove shall be the jully-flower,Comes lockren to thy hand,. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .8‘Thy stockings shall be of the thyme,Fair maid, it is a pleasant view;Put on, fair maid, whenever you please,And your shoes shall be of the rue.’Brave sailing here, my dear,And better sailing there,And brave sailing in my love’s arms,O if I were there!9‘You shape to me, young man,’ she says,‘A weed amongst the flowers,But I will shape to you, young man,A weed amongst the flowers.10‘The hail-stones shall be on thy head,And the snow upon thy breast,And the east-wind shall be for a shirt,To cover thy body next.11‘Thy boots shall be of the tangle,That nothing can betide,Thy steed shall be of the wan water,Loup on, young man, and ride.’Brave sailing there, my dear,And better sailing here,And ’t is brave sailing twixt my love’s arms,O if I were there!
1The wakeing all the winter night,And the tippling at the wine,And the courting of a bonny lass,Will break this heart of mine.Brave sailing here, my dear,And better sailing there,Brave sailing in my love’s arms,O give I were there!2I had a bed of thyme,And it flourishd night and day,There came by a squire’s sonThat stole my heart away.Brave sailing, etc.3Then up comes the gardener-lad,And he gave me profers free,He gave to me the jully-flowers,To clothe my gay bodie.4The gardener stood in his garden,And the prim-rose in his hand,And there he spi’d his own true love,As tight’s a willy wand.5‘If he’ll be a lover true,’ she said,‘A lover true indeed,And buy all the flowers of my garden,I’ll shape to thee a weed.’Brave sailing, etc.6‘The prim-rose shall be on thy head,And the red rose on thy breast,And the white-rose shall be for a smock,To cover thy body next.Brave sailing, etc.7‘Thy glove shall be the jully-flower,Comes lockren to thy hand,. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .8‘Thy stockings shall be of the thyme,Fair maid, it is a pleasant view;Put on, fair maid, whenever you please,And your shoes shall be of the rue.’Brave sailing here, my dear,And better sailing there,And brave sailing in my love’s arms,O if I were there!9‘You shape to me, young man,’ she says,‘A weed amongst the flowers,But I will shape to you, young man,A weed amongst the flowers.10‘The hail-stones shall be on thy head,And the snow upon thy breast,And the east-wind shall be for a shirt,To cover thy body next.11‘Thy boots shall be of the tangle,That nothing can betide,Thy steed shall be of the wan water,Loup on, young man, and ride.’Brave sailing there, my dear,And better sailing here,And ’t is brave sailing twixt my love’s arms,O if I were there!
1The wakeing all the winter night,And the tippling at the wine,And the courting of a bonny lass,Will break this heart of mine.Brave sailing here, my dear,And better sailing there,Brave sailing in my love’s arms,O give I were there!
1
The wakeing all the winter night,
And the tippling at the wine,
And the courting of a bonny lass,
Will break this heart of mine.
Brave sailing here, my dear,
And better sailing there,
Brave sailing in my love’s arms,
O give I were there!
2I had a bed of thyme,And it flourishd night and day,There came by a squire’s sonThat stole my heart away.Brave sailing, etc.
2
I had a bed of thyme,
And it flourishd night and day,
There came by a squire’s son
That stole my heart away.
Brave sailing, etc.
3Then up comes the gardener-lad,And he gave me profers free,He gave to me the jully-flowers,To clothe my gay bodie.
3
Then up comes the gardener-lad,
And he gave me profers free,
He gave to me the jully-flowers,
To clothe my gay bodie.
4The gardener stood in his garden,And the prim-rose in his hand,And there he spi’d his own true love,As tight’s a willy wand.
4
The gardener stood in his garden,
And the prim-rose in his hand,
And there he spi’d his own true love,
As tight’s a willy wand.
5‘If he’ll be a lover true,’ she said,‘A lover true indeed,And buy all the flowers of my garden,I’ll shape to thee a weed.’Brave sailing, etc.
5
‘If he’ll be a lover true,’ she said,
‘A lover true indeed,
And buy all the flowers of my garden,
I’ll shape to thee a weed.’
Brave sailing, etc.
6‘The prim-rose shall be on thy head,And the red rose on thy breast,And the white-rose shall be for a smock,To cover thy body next.Brave sailing, etc.
6
‘The prim-rose shall be on thy head,
And the red rose on thy breast,
And the white-rose shall be for a smock,
To cover thy body next.
Brave sailing, etc.
7‘Thy glove shall be the jully-flower,Comes lockren to thy hand,. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .
7
‘Thy glove shall be the jully-flower,
Comes lockren to thy hand,
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
8‘Thy stockings shall be of the thyme,Fair maid, it is a pleasant view;Put on, fair maid, whenever you please,And your shoes shall be of the rue.’Brave sailing here, my dear,And better sailing there,And brave sailing in my love’s arms,O if I were there!
8
‘Thy stockings shall be of the thyme,
Fair maid, it is a pleasant view;
Put on, fair maid, whenever you please,
And your shoes shall be of the rue.’
Brave sailing here, my dear,
And better sailing there,
And brave sailing in my love’s arms,
O if I were there!
9‘You shape to me, young man,’ she says,‘A weed amongst the flowers,But I will shape to you, young man,A weed amongst the flowers.
9
‘You shape to me, young man,’ she says,
‘A weed amongst the flowers,
But I will shape to you, young man,
A weed amongst the flowers.
10‘The hail-stones shall be on thy head,And the snow upon thy breast,And the east-wind shall be for a shirt,To cover thy body next.
10
‘The hail-stones shall be on thy head,
And the snow upon thy breast,
And the east-wind shall be for a shirt,
To cover thy body next.
11‘Thy boots shall be of the tangle,That nothing can betide,Thy steed shall be of the wan water,Loup on, young man, and ride.’Brave sailing there, my dear,And better sailing here,And ’t is brave sailing twixt my love’s arms,O if I were there!
11
‘Thy boots shall be of the tangle,
That nothing can betide,
Thy steed shall be of the wan water,
Loup on, young man, and ride.’
Brave sailing there, my dear,
And better sailing here,
And ’t is brave sailing twixt my love’s arms,
O if I were there!
Five Excellent New Songs. II. The New Lover’s Garland. III. The Young Maid’s Answer.
51should read, If thou’lt ... he said.52should read nearly as inB83, Among all.64, 104. nextshould beneist.71. grove.71,2, 81,2,make a stanza.After8: The Young Maid’s Answer,printed as No 3 of the five songs.91. to be a.93,4could be easily correctedfromA75,6,B153,4.111. stangle.112should read to the effect, That’s brought in by the tide.
51should read, If thou’lt ... he said.
52should read nearly as inB83, Among all.
64, 104. nextshould beneist.
71. grove.
71,2, 81,2,make a stanza.
After8: The Young Maid’s Answer,printed as No 3 of the five songs.
91. to be a.
93,4could be easily correctedfromA75,6,B153,4.
111. stangle.
112should read to the effect, That’s brought in by the tide.
The piece which follows is little more than a variation of ‘I sow’d the seeds of love’ (one of “three of the most popular songs among the servant-maids of the present generation,” says Mr Chappell: see a traditional version of the song, which was originally composed by Mrs Habergham towards the end of the seventeenth century, in Popular Music, p. 522 f.). But the choosing of a weed for a maid from garden-flowers is here, and is not in the song. It will be observed that the maid chooses no weed for the gardener, but dies of a thorn-prick, a trait which is found in neither the song nor the ballad.
Taken down by Rev. S. Baring-Gould from the singing of Joseph Paddon, Holcombe Burnell. Printed, with changes, in Baring-Gould and Sheppard’s Songs and Ballads of the West, No 107, Part IV, p. 50, 1891 here as sung.
1A garden was planted aroundWith flowers of every kind,I chose of the best to wear in my breast,The flowers best pleased my mind.2A gardener standing byI asked to choose for me;He chose me the lily, the violet, the pink,But I liked none of the three.3A violet I don’t like,A lily it fades so soon,But as for the pink I cared not a flink,I said I would stop till June.4‘The lily it shall be thy smock,The jonquil shoe thy feet,Thy gown shall be of the ten-week stock,Thy gloves the violet sweet.5‘The gilly shall deck thy head,Thy way with herbs I’ll strew,Thy stockings shall be the marigold,Thy gloves the violet blue.’6‘I like not the gilly-flower,Nor herbs my way to strew,Nor stockings of the marigold,Nor gloves of violet blue.7‘I will not have the ten-week stock,Nor jonquils to my shoon,But I will have the red, red roseThat flowereth in June.’8‘The rose it doth bear a thornThat pricketh to the bone;’‘I little heed what thou dost say,I will have that or none.’9‘The rose it doth bear a thornThat pricketh to the heart;’‘O but I will have the red, red rose,For I little heed its smart.’10She stoopëd to the groundTo pluck the rose so red,The thorn it pierced her to the heart,And this fair maid was dead.11A gardener stood at the gate,With cypress in his hand,And he did say, Let no fair mayCome into Dead Maid’s Land.
1A garden was planted aroundWith flowers of every kind,I chose of the best to wear in my breast,The flowers best pleased my mind.2A gardener standing byI asked to choose for me;He chose me the lily, the violet, the pink,But I liked none of the three.3A violet I don’t like,A lily it fades so soon,But as for the pink I cared not a flink,I said I would stop till June.4‘The lily it shall be thy smock,The jonquil shoe thy feet,Thy gown shall be of the ten-week stock,Thy gloves the violet sweet.5‘The gilly shall deck thy head,Thy way with herbs I’ll strew,Thy stockings shall be the marigold,Thy gloves the violet blue.’6‘I like not the gilly-flower,Nor herbs my way to strew,Nor stockings of the marigold,Nor gloves of violet blue.7‘I will not have the ten-week stock,Nor jonquils to my shoon,But I will have the red, red roseThat flowereth in June.’8‘The rose it doth bear a thornThat pricketh to the bone;’‘I little heed what thou dost say,I will have that or none.’9‘The rose it doth bear a thornThat pricketh to the heart;’‘O but I will have the red, red rose,For I little heed its smart.’10She stoopëd to the groundTo pluck the rose so red,The thorn it pierced her to the heart,And this fair maid was dead.11A gardener stood at the gate,With cypress in his hand,And he did say, Let no fair mayCome into Dead Maid’s Land.
1A garden was planted aroundWith flowers of every kind,I chose of the best to wear in my breast,The flowers best pleased my mind.
1
A garden was planted around
With flowers of every kind,
I chose of the best to wear in my breast,
The flowers best pleased my mind.
2A gardener standing byI asked to choose for me;He chose me the lily, the violet, the pink,But I liked none of the three.
2
A gardener standing by
I asked to choose for me;
He chose me the lily, the violet, the pink,
But I liked none of the three.
3A violet I don’t like,A lily it fades so soon,But as for the pink I cared not a flink,I said I would stop till June.
3
A violet I don’t like,
A lily it fades so soon,
But as for the pink I cared not a flink,
I said I would stop till June.
4‘The lily it shall be thy smock,The jonquil shoe thy feet,Thy gown shall be of the ten-week stock,Thy gloves the violet sweet.
4
‘The lily it shall be thy smock,
The jonquil shoe thy feet,
Thy gown shall be of the ten-week stock,
Thy gloves the violet sweet.
5‘The gilly shall deck thy head,Thy way with herbs I’ll strew,Thy stockings shall be the marigold,Thy gloves the violet blue.’
5
‘The gilly shall deck thy head,
Thy way with herbs I’ll strew,
Thy stockings shall be the marigold,
Thy gloves the violet blue.’
6‘I like not the gilly-flower,Nor herbs my way to strew,Nor stockings of the marigold,Nor gloves of violet blue.
6
‘I like not the gilly-flower,
Nor herbs my way to strew,
Nor stockings of the marigold,
Nor gloves of violet blue.
7‘I will not have the ten-week stock,Nor jonquils to my shoon,But I will have the red, red roseThat flowereth in June.’
7
‘I will not have the ten-week stock,
Nor jonquils to my shoon,
But I will have the red, red rose
That flowereth in June.’
8‘The rose it doth bear a thornThat pricketh to the bone;’‘I little heed what thou dost say,I will have that or none.’
8
‘The rose it doth bear a thorn
That pricketh to the bone;’
‘I little heed what thou dost say,
I will have that or none.’
9‘The rose it doth bear a thornThat pricketh to the heart;’‘O but I will have the red, red rose,For I little heed its smart.’
9
‘The rose it doth bear a thorn
That pricketh to the heart;’
‘O but I will have the red, red rose,
For I little heed its smart.’
10She stoopëd to the groundTo pluck the rose so red,The thorn it pierced her to the heart,And this fair maid was dead.
10
She stoopëd to the ground
To pluck the rose so red,
The thorn it pierced her to the heart,
And this fair maid was dead.
11A gardener stood at the gate,With cypress in his hand,And he did say, Let no fair mayCome into Dead Maid’s Land.
11
A gardener stood at the gate,
With cypress in his hand,
And he did say, Let no fair may
Come into Dead Maid’s Land.
A fragment in Motherwell’s MS., obtained from Widow Nicol, ‘It’s braw sailing here,’ p. 110, has something of both pieces without any suggestion of the flower-dress.
1It’s braw sailing here,And it’s braw sailing there,And it’s braw sailing on the seasWhen wind and tide are fair.2It’s braw drinking beer,And it’s braw drinking wine,And it’s braw courting a bonnie lassWhen she is in her prime.3O the gardener sent me word,He that pued the rose for me,The willow, primrose, the red rose,But I denied all three.4The willow I’ll deny,The primrose it buds soon,But I’ll chuse for me the red rose,And I vow it’ll stand till June.5In June my red rose sprung,It was not a rose for me,So I’ll pull the top of my red rose,And I’ll plant the willow-tree.6For the willow I must wear,With sorrows mixed amang,And all the neighbours far and nearSay I luved a false luve lang.
1It’s braw sailing here,And it’s braw sailing there,And it’s braw sailing on the seasWhen wind and tide are fair.2It’s braw drinking beer,And it’s braw drinking wine,And it’s braw courting a bonnie lassWhen she is in her prime.3O the gardener sent me word,He that pued the rose for me,The willow, primrose, the red rose,But I denied all three.4The willow I’ll deny,The primrose it buds soon,But I’ll chuse for me the red rose,And I vow it’ll stand till June.5In June my red rose sprung,It was not a rose for me,So I’ll pull the top of my red rose,And I’ll plant the willow-tree.6For the willow I must wear,With sorrows mixed amang,And all the neighbours far and nearSay I luved a false luve lang.
1It’s braw sailing here,And it’s braw sailing there,And it’s braw sailing on the seasWhen wind and tide are fair.
1
It’s braw sailing here,
And it’s braw sailing there,
And it’s braw sailing on the seas
When wind and tide are fair.
2It’s braw drinking beer,And it’s braw drinking wine,And it’s braw courting a bonnie lassWhen she is in her prime.
2
It’s braw drinking beer,
And it’s braw drinking wine,
And it’s braw courting a bonnie lass
When she is in her prime.
3O the gardener sent me word,He that pued the rose for me,The willow, primrose, the red rose,But I denied all three.
3
O the gardener sent me word,
He that pued the rose for me,
The willow, primrose, the red rose,
But I denied all three.
4The willow I’ll deny,The primrose it buds soon,But I’ll chuse for me the red rose,And I vow it’ll stand till June.
4
The willow I’ll deny,
The primrose it buds soon,
But I’ll chuse for me the red rose,
And I vow it’ll stand till June.
5In June my red rose sprung,It was not a rose for me,So I’ll pull the top of my red rose,And I’ll plant the willow-tree.
5
In June my red rose sprung,
It was not a rose for me,
So I’ll pull the top of my red rose,
And I’ll plant the willow-tree.
6For the willow I must wear,With sorrows mixed amang,And all the neighbours far and nearSay I luved a false luve lang.
6
For the willow I must wear,
With sorrows mixed amang,
And all the neighbours far and near
Say I luved a false luve lang.
22. brawaltered tobetter.
22. brawaltered tobetter.
P. 222.E, as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 17, ‘Bony Catrain Jaffry.’
1Bonny Catrain Jaffrie,That proper maid sae fare,She has loved yong Lochinwar,She made him no compare.2He courted her the live-lang winter night,Sa has he the simmer’s day;He has courted her sae langTill he sta her heart away.3Bat the lusty lard of LamerdallCame fra the South Countrey,An for to ga[i]n this lady’s loveIn intred he.4. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .An he has gained her friends’ consent,An sett the weding-day.5The weding-day it being sett,An a’ man to it boun,She sent for her first fair love,Her wedding to come to.6His father an his mother came,. . . . . . .They came a’, but he came no,It was a foull play.7Lochenwar an his comradsSat drinken att the wine;‘Faue on you!’ sad his comrads,‘Tak yer bride for shame.8‘Had she ben mine, as she was yours,An den as she has don to you,I wad tak her on her bridell-dayFra a’ her compinay.9‘Fra a’ her compinay,Without any other stay;I wad gee them frogs insted of fish,An take ther bride away.’10He got fifty young men,They were gallant an gay,An fifty madens,An left them on a lay.11Fan he came in by Callien bank,An in by Calline bray,He left his companyDancing on a lay.12He came to the bridel-house,An in entred he;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .13‘Ther was a young man in this placeLoyed well a comly may,Bat the day she gaes anether man’s bride,An has plaed him foull play.14‘Had it ben me, as it was him,An don as she has dien him tee,I wad ha geen them froges insteed of fish,An tane ther bride away.’15The Englesh speared gin he wad fight,It spak well in his mind;. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .16‘It was na for fighten I cam hear,But to bear gud fileshap gay;Wan glass we yer bridgrom,An so I goe my way.’17The glass was filled of gued read wineBetuen them tua:‘Wan word we yer brid,An so I goo my waa.’18He was on gued horse back,An whipt the bride him we;She grat an wrang her hands,An said, It’s foull play!19. . . . . . . .‘An this I dar well say,For this day I gade anether man’s bride,An it’s ben foull play.’20Bat nou she is Lochenw[ar]’s wife,. . . . . . . .An he gaed them froges insted of fish,An tain ther bried away.
1Bonny Catrain Jaffrie,That proper maid sae fare,She has loved yong Lochinwar,She made him no compare.2He courted her the live-lang winter night,Sa has he the simmer’s day;He has courted her sae langTill he sta her heart away.3Bat the lusty lard of LamerdallCame fra the South Countrey,An for to ga[i]n this lady’s loveIn intred he.4. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .An he has gained her friends’ consent,An sett the weding-day.5The weding-day it being sett,An a’ man to it boun,She sent for her first fair love,Her wedding to come to.6His father an his mother came,. . . . . . .They came a’, but he came no,It was a foull play.7Lochenwar an his comradsSat drinken att the wine;‘Faue on you!’ sad his comrads,‘Tak yer bride for shame.8‘Had she ben mine, as she was yours,An den as she has don to you,I wad tak her on her bridell-dayFra a’ her compinay.9‘Fra a’ her compinay,Without any other stay;I wad gee them frogs insted of fish,An take ther bride away.’10He got fifty young men,They were gallant an gay,An fifty madens,An left them on a lay.11Fan he came in by Callien bank,An in by Calline bray,He left his companyDancing on a lay.12He came to the bridel-house,An in entred he;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .13‘Ther was a young man in this placeLoyed well a comly may,Bat the day she gaes anether man’s bride,An has plaed him foull play.14‘Had it ben me, as it was him,An don as she has dien him tee,I wad ha geen them froges insteed of fish,An tane ther bride away.’15The Englesh speared gin he wad fight,It spak well in his mind;. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .16‘It was na for fighten I cam hear,But to bear gud fileshap gay;Wan glass we yer bridgrom,An so I goe my way.’17The glass was filled of gued read wineBetuen them tua:‘Wan word we yer brid,An so I goo my waa.’18He was on gued horse back,An whipt the bride him we;She grat an wrang her hands,An said, It’s foull play!19. . . . . . . .‘An this I dar well say,For this day I gade anether man’s bride,An it’s ben foull play.’20Bat nou she is Lochenw[ar]’s wife,. . . . . . . .An he gaed them froges insted of fish,An tain ther bried away.
1Bonny Catrain Jaffrie,That proper maid sae fare,She has loved yong Lochinwar,She made him no compare.
1
Bonny Catrain Jaffrie,
That proper maid sae fare,
She has loved yong Lochinwar,
She made him no compare.
2He courted her the live-lang winter night,Sa has he the simmer’s day;He has courted her sae langTill he sta her heart away.
2
He courted her the live-lang winter night,
Sa has he the simmer’s day;
He has courted her sae lang
Till he sta her heart away.
3Bat the lusty lard of LamerdallCame fra the South Countrey,An for to ga[i]n this lady’s loveIn intred he.
3
Bat the lusty lard of Lamerdall
Came fra the South Countrey,
An for to ga[i]n this lady’s love
In intred he.
4. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .An he has gained her friends’ consent,An sett the weding-day.
4
. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
An he has gained her friends’ consent,
An sett the weding-day.
5The weding-day it being sett,An a’ man to it boun,She sent for her first fair love,Her wedding to come to.
5
The weding-day it being sett,
An a’ man to it boun,
She sent for her first fair love,
Her wedding to come to.
6His father an his mother came,. . . . . . .They came a’, but he came no,It was a foull play.
6
His father an his mother came,
. . . . . . .
They came a’, but he came no,
It was a foull play.
7Lochenwar an his comradsSat drinken att the wine;‘Faue on you!’ sad his comrads,‘Tak yer bride for shame.
7
Lochenwar an his comrads
Sat drinken att the wine;
‘Faue on you!’ sad his comrads,
‘Tak yer bride for shame.
8‘Had she ben mine, as she was yours,An den as she has don to you,I wad tak her on her bridell-dayFra a’ her compinay.
8
‘Had she ben mine, as she was yours,
An den as she has don to you,
I wad tak her on her bridell-day
Fra a’ her compinay.
9‘Fra a’ her compinay,Without any other stay;I wad gee them frogs insted of fish,An take ther bride away.’
9
‘Fra a’ her compinay,
Without any other stay;
I wad gee them frogs insted of fish,
An take ther bride away.’
10He got fifty young men,They were gallant an gay,An fifty madens,An left them on a lay.
10
He got fifty young men,
They were gallant an gay,
An fifty madens,
An left them on a lay.
11Fan he came in by Callien bank,An in by Calline bray,He left his companyDancing on a lay.
11
Fan he came in by Callien bank,
An in by Calline bray,
He left his company
Dancing on a lay.
12He came to the bridel-house,An in entred he;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .
12
He came to the bridel-house,
An in entred he;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
13‘Ther was a young man in this placeLoyed well a comly may,Bat the day she gaes anether man’s bride,An has plaed him foull play.
13
‘Ther was a young man in this place
Loyed well a comly may,
Bat the day she gaes anether man’s bride,
An has plaed him foull play.
14‘Had it ben me, as it was him,An don as she has dien him tee,I wad ha geen them froges insteed of fish,An tane ther bride away.’
14
‘Had it ben me, as it was him,
An don as she has dien him tee,
I wad ha geen them froges insteed of fish,
An tane ther bride away.’
15The Englesh speared gin he wad fight,It spak well in his mind;. . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .
15
The Englesh speared gin he wad fight,
It spak well in his mind;
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
16‘It was na for fighten I cam hear,But to bear gud fileshap gay;Wan glass we yer bridgrom,An so I goe my way.’
16
‘It was na for fighten I cam hear,
But to bear gud fileshap gay;
Wan glass we yer bridgrom,
An so I goe my way.’
17The glass was filled of gued read wineBetuen them tua:‘Wan word we yer brid,An so I goo my waa.’
17
The glass was filled of gued read wine
Betuen them tua:
‘Wan word we yer brid,
An so I goo my waa.’
18He was on gued horse back,An whipt the bride him we;She grat an wrang her hands,An said, It’s foull play!
18
He was on gued horse back,
An whipt the bride him we;
She grat an wrang her hands,
An said, It’s foull play!
19. . . . . . . .‘An this I dar well say,For this day I gade anether man’s bride,An it’s ben foull play.’
19
. . . . . . . .
‘An this I dar well say,
For this day I gade anether man’s bride,
An it’s ben foull play.’
20Bat nou she is Lochenw[ar]’s wife,. . . . . . . .An he gaed them froges insted of fish,An tain ther bried away.
20
Bat nou she is Lochenw[ar]’s wife,
. . . . . . . .
An he gaed them froges insted of fish,
An tain ther bried away.
1. himimperfect; might behir.52. boung.
1. himimperfect; might behir.
52. boung.
225.G.Collated with a MS. of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe’s and with another copy of the same pieces in “North Country Ballads,” Miscellanea Curiosa, Abbotsford Library.
Sharpe, p. 13. 11. Owanting: Jaffray.
13. For she has lovd young L.31,2. Lauderdale’s come.33. That pretty.43. He agreed with.53. lossing of the.61. were you, L.71. Ye get.72. And send through.73. Get 150.74. be all.83. And still: trumpets.92. And sent.93. Gat full.94. To be all.101. To be.102. to obey.103. And still: trumpets.113. When he went in upon.122. who was.123. Come never.131. They’ll.143. Askd if he had.151. ever.152. As was.154. Was.163. I did.164. Was leaping on the hays.173. with you,b.174, 184. bound.182. drank.191. taken.194, 204. no.201. so great.202. And so.203. That.211. take their.213. trumpets.221. There was.222. Was walking on a hay.223. Gave them the bonny bride by the hand.224. bad them bound.231. pieces nine.
13. For she has lovd young L.
31,2. Lauderdale’s come.
33. That pretty.
43. He agreed with.
53. lossing of the.
61. were you, L.
71. Ye get.
72. And send through.
73. Get 150.
74. be all.
83. And still: trumpets.
92. And sent.
93. Gat full.
94. To be all.
101. To be.
102. to obey.
103. And still: trumpets.
113. When he went in upon.
122. who was.
123. Come never.
131. They’ll.
143. Askd if he had.
151. ever.
152. As was.
154. Was.
163. I did.
164. Was leaping on the hays.
173. with you,b.
174, 184. bound.
182. drank.
191. taken.
194, 204. no.
201. so great.
202. And so.
203. That.
211. take their.
213. trumpets.
221. There was.
222. Was walking on a hay.
223. Gave them the bonny bride by the hand.
224. bad them bound.
231. pieces nine.
Scott. 152. arraymiscopiedaway.
P. 231. ‘Bonnie Annie Livieston’ in C. K. Sharpe’s first MS. collection, p. 24, resemblesDandB, and has as many commonplaces asB, ending with the last three stanzas of several versions of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Annet’ or of ‘Lord Lovel,’I.
1Bonny Anny LiviestonWent out to see the play,By came the laird of Glenlion,And [he’s] taen hir quite away.2He set hir on a milk-white steed,Himself upon a gray,He’s teen hir oer the Highland hills,And taen hir quite away.3When they came to Glenlion’s gate,The lighted on the green;There was mony a bonny lad and lassTo welcome the lady hame.4They led hir through high towers and bowers,And through the buling-green,And ay when they spake Erse to hirThe tears blinded hir een.5Says, The Highlands is no for me, kind sir,The Highlands is no for me;If that ye would my favour win,Take me unto Dundee.6‘Dundee!’ he says, ‘Dundee, lady!Dundee you shall never see;Upon the laird of GlenlionSoon wadded shall ye be.’7When bells were rung, and mas was sung,And all were bound for bed,And bonny Annie LiviestonBy hir bridegroom was laid.8‘It’s O gin it were day!’ she says,‘It’s O gin it were day!O if that it were day,’ she says,‘Nae langer wad I stay.’9‘Your horse stands in a good stable,Eating both corn and hay,And you are in Glenlion’s arms,Why should ye weary for day?’10‘Glenlion’s arms are good enough,But alais! the’r no for me;If that you would my fevour win,Taike me unto Dundee.11‘Bat fetch me paper, pen and ink,And candle that I may see,And I’ll go write a long letterTo Geordie in Dundee.12‘Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will gang to my ain true-luve,And tell him what is done?’13Then up then spake a bonny boy,Near to Glenlion’s kin,Says, Many time I hae gane his erand,But the lady’s I will rin.14O when he came to broken brigsHe bent his bow and swame,And when he came to grass growingSet down his feet and ran.15And when he came to Dundee gateLap clean outoer the wa;Before the porter was thereat,The boy was in the haa.16‘What news? what news, bonny boy?What news hes thou to me?’‘No news, no news,’ said bonny boy,‘But a letter unto thee.’17The first three lines he looked on,A loud laughter gied he,But or he wan to the hinder enThe tears blinded his eie.18‘Gae saddle to me the black,’ he says,‘Gae saddle to me the broun,Gae saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer took man to towen.’19He burst the black unto the slack,The browen unto the brae,But fair fa on the siller-grayThat carried him ay away!20When he came to Glenlion’s yett,He tirled at the pin,But before that he wan up the stairThe lady she was gone.21‘O I can kiss thy cheeks, Annie,O I can kiss thy chin,O I can kiss thy clay-cold lips,Though there be no breath within.22‘Deal large at my love’s buriellThe short bread and the wine,And gin the morn at ten o clockYe may deal as mukle at mine.’23The taen was biried in Mary’s kirk,The tither in St Mary’s quire,And out of the taen there grew a birk,And the ither a bonny brier.24And ay they grew, and ay they threw,Till they did meet aboon,And a’ that ere the same did seeKnew they had true lovers been.
1Bonny Anny LiviestonWent out to see the play,By came the laird of Glenlion,And [he’s] taen hir quite away.2He set hir on a milk-white steed,Himself upon a gray,He’s teen hir oer the Highland hills,And taen hir quite away.3When they came to Glenlion’s gate,The lighted on the green;There was mony a bonny lad and lassTo welcome the lady hame.4They led hir through high towers and bowers,And through the buling-green,And ay when they spake Erse to hirThe tears blinded hir een.5Says, The Highlands is no for me, kind sir,The Highlands is no for me;If that ye would my favour win,Take me unto Dundee.6‘Dundee!’ he says, ‘Dundee, lady!Dundee you shall never see;Upon the laird of GlenlionSoon wadded shall ye be.’7When bells were rung, and mas was sung,And all were bound for bed,And bonny Annie LiviestonBy hir bridegroom was laid.8‘It’s O gin it were day!’ she says,‘It’s O gin it were day!O if that it were day,’ she says,‘Nae langer wad I stay.’9‘Your horse stands in a good stable,Eating both corn and hay,And you are in Glenlion’s arms,Why should ye weary for day?’10‘Glenlion’s arms are good enough,But alais! the’r no for me;If that you would my fevour win,Taike me unto Dundee.11‘Bat fetch me paper, pen and ink,And candle that I may see,And I’ll go write a long letterTo Geordie in Dundee.12‘Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will gang to my ain true-luve,And tell him what is done?’13Then up then spake a bonny boy,Near to Glenlion’s kin,Says, Many time I hae gane his erand,But the lady’s I will rin.14O when he came to broken brigsHe bent his bow and swame,And when he came to grass growingSet down his feet and ran.15And when he came to Dundee gateLap clean outoer the wa;Before the porter was thereat,The boy was in the haa.16‘What news? what news, bonny boy?What news hes thou to me?’‘No news, no news,’ said bonny boy,‘But a letter unto thee.’17The first three lines he looked on,A loud laughter gied he,But or he wan to the hinder enThe tears blinded his eie.18‘Gae saddle to me the black,’ he says,‘Gae saddle to me the broun,Gae saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer took man to towen.’19He burst the black unto the slack,The browen unto the brae,But fair fa on the siller-grayThat carried him ay away!20When he came to Glenlion’s yett,He tirled at the pin,But before that he wan up the stairThe lady she was gone.21‘O I can kiss thy cheeks, Annie,O I can kiss thy chin,O I can kiss thy clay-cold lips,Though there be no breath within.22‘Deal large at my love’s buriellThe short bread and the wine,And gin the morn at ten o clockYe may deal as mukle at mine.’23The taen was biried in Mary’s kirk,The tither in St Mary’s quire,And out of the taen there grew a birk,And the ither a bonny brier.24And ay they grew, and ay they threw,Till they did meet aboon,And a’ that ere the same did seeKnew they had true lovers been.
1Bonny Anny LiviestonWent out to see the play,By came the laird of Glenlion,And [he’s] taen hir quite away.
1
Bonny Anny Livieston
Went out to see the play,
By came the laird of Glenlion,
And [he’s] taen hir quite away.
2He set hir on a milk-white steed,Himself upon a gray,He’s teen hir oer the Highland hills,And taen hir quite away.
2
He set hir on a milk-white steed,
Himself upon a gray,
He’s teen hir oer the Highland hills,
And taen hir quite away.
3When they came to Glenlion’s gate,The lighted on the green;There was mony a bonny lad and lassTo welcome the lady hame.
3
When they came to Glenlion’s gate,
The lighted on the green;
There was mony a bonny lad and lass
To welcome the lady hame.
4They led hir through high towers and bowers,And through the buling-green,And ay when they spake Erse to hirThe tears blinded hir een.
4
They led hir through high towers and bowers,
And through the buling-green,
And ay when they spake Erse to hir
The tears blinded hir een.
5Says, The Highlands is no for me, kind sir,The Highlands is no for me;If that ye would my favour win,Take me unto Dundee.
5
Says, The Highlands is no for me, kind sir,
The Highlands is no for me;
If that ye would my favour win,
Take me unto Dundee.
6‘Dundee!’ he says, ‘Dundee, lady!Dundee you shall never see;Upon the laird of GlenlionSoon wadded shall ye be.’
6
‘Dundee!’ he says, ‘Dundee, lady!
Dundee you shall never see;
Upon the laird of Glenlion
Soon wadded shall ye be.’
7When bells were rung, and mas was sung,And all were bound for bed,And bonny Annie LiviestonBy hir bridegroom was laid.
7
When bells were rung, and mas was sung,
And all were bound for bed,
And bonny Annie Livieston
By hir bridegroom was laid.
8‘It’s O gin it were day!’ she says,‘It’s O gin it were day!O if that it were day,’ she says,‘Nae langer wad I stay.’
8
‘It’s O gin it were day!’ she says,
‘It’s O gin it were day!
O if that it were day,’ she says,
‘Nae langer wad I stay.’
9‘Your horse stands in a good stable,Eating both corn and hay,And you are in Glenlion’s arms,Why should ye weary for day?’
9
‘Your horse stands in a good stable,
Eating both corn and hay,
And you are in Glenlion’s arms,
Why should ye weary for day?’
10‘Glenlion’s arms are good enough,But alais! the’r no for me;If that you would my fevour win,Taike me unto Dundee.
10
‘Glenlion’s arms are good enough,
But alais! the’r no for me;
If that you would my fevour win,
Taike me unto Dundee.
11‘Bat fetch me paper, pen and ink,And candle that I may see,And I’ll go write a long letterTo Geordie in Dundee.
11
‘Bat fetch me paper, pen and ink,
And candle that I may see,
And I’ll go write a long letter
To Geordie in Dundee.
12‘Where will I get a bonny boy,That will win hose and shoon,That will gang to my ain true-luve,And tell him what is done?’
12
‘Where will I get a bonny boy,
That will win hose and shoon,
That will gang to my ain true-luve,
And tell him what is done?’
13Then up then spake a bonny boy,Near to Glenlion’s kin,Says, Many time I hae gane his erand,But the lady’s I will rin.
13
Then up then spake a bonny boy,
Near to Glenlion’s kin,
Says, Many time I hae gane his erand,
But the lady’s I will rin.
14O when he came to broken brigsHe bent his bow and swame,And when he came to grass growingSet down his feet and ran.
14
O when he came to broken brigs
He bent his bow and swame,
And when he came to grass growing
Set down his feet and ran.
15And when he came to Dundee gateLap clean outoer the wa;Before the porter was thereat,The boy was in the haa.
15
And when he came to Dundee gate
Lap clean outoer the wa;
Before the porter was thereat,
The boy was in the haa.
16‘What news? what news, bonny boy?What news hes thou to me?’‘No news, no news,’ said bonny boy,‘But a letter unto thee.’
16
‘What news? what news, bonny boy?
What news hes thou to me?’
‘No news, no news,’ said bonny boy,
‘But a letter unto thee.’
17The first three lines he looked on,A loud laughter gied he,But or he wan to the hinder enThe tears blinded his eie.
17
The first three lines he looked on,
A loud laughter gied he,
But or he wan to the hinder en
The tears blinded his eie.
18‘Gae saddle to me the black,’ he says,‘Gae saddle to me the broun,Gae saddle to me the swiftest steedThat eer took man to towen.’
18
‘Gae saddle to me the black,’ he says,
‘Gae saddle to me the broun,
Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed
That eer took man to towen.’
19He burst the black unto the slack,The browen unto the brae,But fair fa on the siller-grayThat carried him ay away!
19
He burst the black unto the slack,
The browen unto the brae,
But fair fa on the siller-gray
That carried him ay away!
20When he came to Glenlion’s yett,He tirled at the pin,But before that he wan up the stairThe lady she was gone.
20
When he came to Glenlion’s yett,
He tirled at the pin,
But before that he wan up the stair
The lady she was gone.
21‘O I can kiss thy cheeks, Annie,O I can kiss thy chin,O I can kiss thy clay-cold lips,Though there be no breath within.
21
‘O I can kiss thy cheeks, Annie,
O I can kiss thy chin,
O I can kiss thy clay-cold lips,
Though there be no breath within.
22‘Deal large at my love’s buriellThe short bread and the wine,And gin the morn at ten o clockYe may deal as mukle at mine.’
22
‘Deal large at my love’s buriell
The short bread and the wine,
And gin the morn at ten o clock
Ye may deal as mukle at mine.’
23The taen was biried in Mary’s kirk,The tither in St Mary’s quire,And out of the taen there grew a birk,And the ither a bonny brier.
23
The taen was biried in Mary’s kirk,
The tither in St Mary’s quire,
And out of the taen there grew a birk,
And the ither a bonny brier.
24And ay they grew, and ay they threw,Till they did meet aboon,And a’ that ere the same did seeKnew they had true lovers been.
24
And ay they grew, and ay they threw,
Till they did meet aboon,
And a’ that ere the same did see
Knew they had true lovers been.