FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[188]blee = hue, complexion.[189]stowre = strong or perhaps we should read ‘stiff in stowre’ = sturdy in fight.[190]Tarn Wadling = The place—near Hesketh in Cumberland, on the road from Carlisle to Penrith—keeps its name to this day. But the tarn has been drained and its site is now a pasture for sheep.[191]hollen = holly-tree.[192]halch upon = salute.[193]sckill = wit, judgement.[194]swire = neck.[195]feires = mates.

[188]blee = hue, complexion.

[189]stowre = strong or perhaps we should read ‘stiff in stowre’ = sturdy in fight.

[190]Tarn Wadling = The place—near Hesketh in Cumberland, on the road from Carlisle to Penrith—keeps its name to this day. But the tarn has been drained and its site is now a pasture for sheep.

[191]hollen = holly-tree.

[192]halch upon = salute.

[193]sckill = wit, judgement.

[194]swire = neck.

[195]feires = mates.

IThere was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar,He had a fair lady and one only dochter.IIO she was fair! O dear, she was bonnie!A ship’s captain courted her to be his honey.III‘Ye’ll steal your father’s gowd, and your mother’s money,And I’ll make ye a lady in Ireland bonnie.’IVShe’s stown her father’s gowd, and her mother’s money,But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie.VThey hadna sail’d far till the young thing cried ‘Woman!’‘What can a woman do, love, I will do for ye.VI‘Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie[196],Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.’VII‘There’s fey[197]folk in our ship, she winna sail for me,There’s fey folk in our ship, she winna sail [ony].’VIIIThey’ve castin’ black bullets twice six and forty,And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie.IX‘Ye’ll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie,Throw me out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.’XHe has ta’en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie.XI‘What can a woman do, love, I’ll do for ye:’‘Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.’XII‘Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie,Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.’XIII‘I’ve laid about, steer’d about, laid about cannie,Our ship’s on a sand-bank, she winna sail [ony]—XIV‘Ye’ll take her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie,And throw her out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.’XVHe has ta’en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,He has thrown her out owre-board, his ain dear Annie.XVI[The corse it did float, the ship it did follow]Until that they came to the high banks o’ Yarrow[198].XVII‘O I’d bury my love on the high banks o’ Yarrow,But the wood it is dear, and the planks they are narrow.’XVIIIHe made his love a coffin o’ the gowd sae yellow,And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley.

There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar,He had a fair lady and one only dochter.

O she was fair! O dear, she was bonnie!A ship’s captain courted her to be his honey.

‘Ye’ll steal your father’s gowd, and your mother’s money,And I’ll make ye a lady in Ireland bonnie.’

She’s stown her father’s gowd, and her mother’s money,But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie.

They hadna sail’d far till the young thing cried ‘Woman!’‘What can a woman do, love, I will do for ye.

‘Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie[196],Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.’

‘There’s fey[197]folk in our ship, she winna sail for me,There’s fey folk in our ship, she winna sail [ony].’

They’ve castin’ black bullets twice six and forty,And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie.

‘Ye’ll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie,Throw me out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.’

He has ta’en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie.

‘What can a woman do, love, I’ll do for ye:’‘Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.’

‘Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie,Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.’

‘I’ve laid about, steer’d about, laid about cannie,Our ship’s on a sand-bank, she winna sail [ony]—

‘Ye’ll take her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie,And throw her out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.’

He has ta’en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie,He has thrown her out owre-board, his ain dear Annie.

[The corse it did float, the ship it did follow]Until that they came to the high banks o’ Yarrow[198].

‘O I’d bury my love on the high banks o’ Yarrow,But the wood it is dear, and the planks they are narrow.’

He made his love a coffin o’ the gowd sae yellow,And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley.

FOOTNOTES:[196]cannie = gently.[197]fey = destined to die.[198]Yarrow =? Jarrow.

[196]cannie = gently.

[197]fey = destined to die.

[198]Yarrow =? Jarrow.

IIt fell upon a WadensdayBrown Robyn’s men went to sea;But they saw neither moon nor sunNor starlight wi’ their e’e.II‘We’ll cast kevels[199]us amang;See wha the man may be.’—The kevel fell on Brown Robyn,The master-man was he.III‘It is nae wonder,’ said Brown Robyn,‘Altho’ I dinna thrive;[For at hame I murder’d my ain father—I would he were on live.]IV‘But tie me to a plank o’ wude,And throw me in the sea;And if I sink, ye may bid me sink,But if I swim, let be.’VThey’ve tied him to a plank o’ wudeAnd thrown him in the sea;He didna sink, tho’ they bade him sink,He swim’d, and they bade let be.VIHe hadna been into the seaAn hour but barely three,Till by it came Our Blessed LadieHer dear young son her wi’.VII‘Will ye gang to your men again,Or will ye gang wi’ me?Will ye gang to the high heavensWi’ my dear son and me?’—VIII‘I winna gang to my men again,For they would be fear’d at me;But I would gang to the high heavens,Wi’ thy dear son and thee.’IX‘It’s for nae honour ye did, Brown Robyn,It’s for nae gude ye did to me;But a’ is for your fair confessionYou’ve made upon the sea.’

It fell upon a WadensdayBrown Robyn’s men went to sea;But they saw neither moon nor sunNor starlight wi’ their e’e.

‘We’ll cast kevels[199]us amang;See wha the man may be.’—The kevel fell on Brown Robyn,The master-man was he.

‘It is nae wonder,’ said Brown Robyn,‘Altho’ I dinna thrive;[For at hame I murder’d my ain father—I would he were on live.]

‘But tie me to a plank o’ wude,And throw me in the sea;And if I sink, ye may bid me sink,But if I swim, let be.’

They’ve tied him to a plank o’ wudeAnd thrown him in the sea;He didna sink, tho’ they bade him sink,He swim’d, and they bade let be.

He hadna been into the seaAn hour but barely three,Till by it came Our Blessed LadieHer dear young son her wi’.

‘Will ye gang to your men again,Or will ye gang wi’ me?Will ye gang to the high heavensWi’ my dear son and me?’—

‘I winna gang to my men again,For they would be fear’d at me;But I would gang to the high heavens,Wi’ thy dear son and thee.’

‘It’s for nae honour ye did, Brown Robyn,It’s for nae gude ye did to me;But a’ is for your fair confessionYou’ve made upon the sea.’

FOOTNOTES:[199]kevels = lots.

[199]kevels = lots.

IShe lean’d her back unto a thorn;Fine flowers in the valleyAnd there she has her two babes born,And the green leaves they grow rarely.IIShe’s ta’en the ribbon frae her hair,And bound their bodies fast and sair.III‘Smile na sae sweet, my bonny babes,An’ ye smile sae sweet, ye’ll smile me dead.IV‘And, O bonny babes, if ye suck sair,Ye’ll never suck by my side mair.’VShe’s ta’en out her little penknifeAnd twinn’d[200]the sweet babes o’ their life.VIShe’s howket a grave baith deep and wide,And there she’s buried them side by side.VIIShe’s buried them baith beneath the brier,And washed her hands wi’ mony a tear.VIII‘O ay, my God, as I look to thee,My babes be atween my God and me!IX‘And ay their smiles wad win me in,But I am borne down by deadly sin.’XShe’s cover’d them o’er wi’ a marble stane,Thinking she wad gang maiden hame.XIShe lookit out owre her castle wa’And saw twa naked boys play at the ba’.XII‘O bonny boys, gin ye were mineI wad cleed[201]you in silk and sabelline[202].XIII‘O I would dress you in the silk,And wash you ay in morning milk.’—XIV‘O mother dear, when we were thine,You didna prove to us sae kind.XV‘O cruel mother, we were thineAnd thou made us to wear the twine[203].XVI‘But now we’re in the heavens hie,Fine flowers in the valleyAnd ye have the pains o’ hell to drie’—And the green leaves they grow rarely;Ten thousand times good night and be wi’ thee!

She lean’d her back unto a thorn;Fine flowers in the valleyAnd there she has her two babes born,And the green leaves they grow rarely.

She’s ta’en the ribbon frae her hair,And bound their bodies fast and sair.

‘Smile na sae sweet, my bonny babes,An’ ye smile sae sweet, ye’ll smile me dead.

‘And, O bonny babes, if ye suck sair,Ye’ll never suck by my side mair.’

She’s ta’en out her little penknifeAnd twinn’d[200]the sweet babes o’ their life.

She’s howket a grave baith deep and wide,And there she’s buried them side by side.

She’s buried them baith beneath the brier,And washed her hands wi’ mony a tear.

‘O ay, my God, as I look to thee,My babes be atween my God and me!

‘And ay their smiles wad win me in,But I am borne down by deadly sin.’

She’s cover’d them o’er wi’ a marble stane,Thinking she wad gang maiden hame.

She lookit out owre her castle wa’And saw twa naked boys play at the ba’.

‘O bonny boys, gin ye were mineI wad cleed[201]you in silk and sabelline[202].

‘O I would dress you in the silk,And wash you ay in morning milk.’—

‘O mother dear, when we were thine,You didna prove to us sae kind.

‘O cruel mother, we were thineAnd thou made us to wear the twine[203].

‘But now we’re in the heavens hie,Fine flowers in the valleyAnd ye have the pains o’ hell to drie’—And the green leaves they grow rarely;Ten thousand times good night and be wi’ thee!

FOOTNOTES:[200]twinn’d = robbed, deprived.[201]cleed = clothe.[202]sabelline = sable.[203]twine = twine-cloth, shroud.

[200]twinn’d = robbed, deprived.

[201]cleed = clothe.

[202]sabelline = sable.

[203]twine = twine-cloth, shroud.

IThere were twa sisters sat in a bour;Binnorie, O Binnorie!There cam a knight to be their wooer,By the bonnie milldams o’ Binnorie.IIHe courted the eldest with glove and ring,But he lo’ed the youngest abune a’ thing.IIIThe eldest she was vexèd sair,And sair envìed her sister fair.IVUpon a morning fair and clear,She cried upon her sister dear:V‘O sister, sister, tak my hand,And we’ll see our father’s ships to land.’VIShe’s ta’en her by the lily hand,And led her down to the river-strand.VIIThe youngest stood upon a stane,The eldest cam and push’d her in.VIII‘O sister, sister, reach your hand!And ye sall be heir o’ half my land:IX‘O sister, reach me but your glove!And sweet William sall be your love.’—X‘Foul fa’ the hand that I should take;It twin’d[204]me o’ my warldis make[205].XI‘Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hairGar’d me gang maiden evermair.’XIISometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,Until she cam to the miller’s dam.XIIIOut then cam the miller’s son,And saw the fair maid soummin’[206]in.XIV‘O father, father, draw your dam!There’s either a mermaid or a milk-white swan.’XVThe miller hasted and drew his dam,And there he found a drown’d woman.XVIYou couldna see her middle sma’,Her gowden girdle was sae braw.XVIIYou couldna see her lily feet,Her gowden fringes were sae deep.XVIIIYou couldna see her yellow hairFor the strings o’ pearls was twisted there.XIXYou couldna see her fingers sma’,Wi’ diamond rings they were cover’d a’.XXAnd by there cam a harper fine,That harpit to the king at dine.XXIAnd when he look’d that lady on,He sigh’d and made a heavy moan.XXIIHe’s made a harp of her breast-bane,Whose sound wad melt a heart of stane.XXIIIHe’s ta’en three locks o’ her yellow hair,And wi’ them strung his harp sae rare.XXIVHe went into her father’s hall,And there was the court assembled all.XXVHe laid his harp upon a stane,And straight it began to play by lane[207].XXVI‘O yonder sits my father, the King,And yonder sits my mother, the Queen;XXVII‘And yonder stands my brother Hugh,And by him my William, sweet and true.’XXVIIIBut the last tune that the harp play’d then—Binnorie, O Binnorie!Was, ‘Woe to my sister, false Helèn!’By the bonnie milldams o’ Binnorie.

There were twa sisters sat in a bour;Binnorie, O Binnorie!There cam a knight to be their wooer,By the bonnie milldams o’ Binnorie.

He courted the eldest with glove and ring,But he lo’ed the youngest abune a’ thing.

The eldest she was vexèd sair,And sair envìed her sister fair.

Upon a morning fair and clear,She cried upon her sister dear:

‘O sister, sister, tak my hand,And we’ll see our father’s ships to land.’

She’s ta’en her by the lily hand,And led her down to the river-strand.

The youngest stood upon a stane,The eldest cam and push’d her in.

‘O sister, sister, reach your hand!And ye sall be heir o’ half my land:

‘O sister, reach me but your glove!And sweet William sall be your love.’—

‘Foul fa’ the hand that I should take;It twin’d[204]me o’ my warldis make[205].

‘Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hairGar’d me gang maiden evermair.’

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,Until she cam to the miller’s dam.

Out then cam the miller’s son,And saw the fair maid soummin’[206]in.

‘O father, father, draw your dam!There’s either a mermaid or a milk-white swan.’

The miller hasted and drew his dam,And there he found a drown’d woman.

You couldna see her middle sma’,Her gowden girdle was sae braw.

You couldna see her lily feet,Her gowden fringes were sae deep.

You couldna see her yellow hairFor the strings o’ pearls was twisted there.

You couldna see her fingers sma’,Wi’ diamond rings they were cover’d a’.

And by there cam a harper fine,That harpit to the king at dine.

And when he look’d that lady on,He sigh’d and made a heavy moan.

He’s made a harp of her breast-bane,Whose sound wad melt a heart of stane.

He’s ta’en three locks o’ her yellow hair,And wi’ them strung his harp sae rare.

He went into her father’s hall,And there was the court assembled all.

He laid his harp upon a stane,And straight it began to play by lane[207].

‘O yonder sits my father, the King,And yonder sits my mother, the Queen;

‘And yonder stands my brother Hugh,And by him my William, sweet and true.’

But the last tune that the harp play’d then—Binnorie, O Binnorie!Was, ‘Woe to my sister, false Helèn!’By the bonnie milldams o’ Binnorie.

FOOTNOTES:[204]twin’d = robbed, deprived.[205]my warldis make = my one mate in the world.[206]soummin’ = swimming.[207]by lane = alone, of itself.

[204]twin’d = robbed, deprived.

[205]my warldis make = my one mate in the world.

[206]soummin’ = swimming.

[207]by lane = alone, of itself.

IThere was a knight and a lady brightSet trysts[208]amang the broom,The ane to come at morning ear[209],The other at afternoon.II‘I’ll wager, I’ll wager, I’ll wager wi’ youFive hundred merks and tenThat a maid shanna gae to the bonny broomAnd a maiden return again.’—III‘I’ll wager, I’ll wager, I’ll wager wi’ youFive hundred merks and tenThat a maid shall gae to the bonny green broomAnd a maiden return again.’IVThe may she sat at her mother’s bower doorAnd aye she made her mane:‘O whether shou’d I gang to the Broomfield Hill,Or should I stay at hame?V‘For if I do gang to the Broomfield Hill,A maid I’ll not return;But if I stay frae the Broomfield Hill,My love will ca’ me man-sworn.’VIUp then spake an auld witch-wife,Sat in the bower abune:‘O ye may gang to the Broomfield Hill,And yet come maiden hame,VII‘For when ye gang to the Broomfield Hill,Ye’ll find your love asleep,Wi’ a silver belt above his head,And a broom-cow[210]at his feet.VIII‘Tak’ ye the bloom frae aff the broom,Strew’t at his head an’ feet,And aye the thicker that ye do strew,The sounder he will sleep.IX‘Tak’ ye the rings aff your fingers,Put them in his right hand,To let him know when he does wake,His love was at his command.’XLord John has ta’en his milk-white steedAnd his hawk wi’ his bells sae bright,And he’s ridden swift to the Broomfield Hill,[Was never a baulder] knight.XI‘Now rest, now rest, my milk-white steed,My lady will soon be here,And I’ll lay my head by this rose sae red,And the bonny burn sae near.’XIIShe’s pu’d the broom-flower on Hive Hill,And strew’d on ’s white breast-bane,And that was to be wittering[211]trueThat maiden she had gane.XIII‘O where were ye, my milk-white steed,That I hae coft[212]sae dear,That wadna watch and waken meWhen there was maiden here?’—XIV‘I stampèd wi’ my foot, master,And gar’d my bridle ring,But no kin’ thing wald waken yeTill she was past and gane.’—XV‘And wae betide ye, my gay goss-hawk,That I hae coft sae dear,That wadna watch an’ waken meWhen my true-love was here.’—XVI‘I clappèd wi’ my wings, master,And aye my bells I rang,And aye cried,Waken, waken, master,Before the ladye gang!’—XVII‘But haste, but haste, my gude white steed,To come the maiden till,Or a’ the birds of the gude greenwoodO’ your flesh shall have their fill!’—XVIII‘Ye needna burst your gude white steedWi’ racing o’er the howm[213];Nae bird flies faster thro’ the woodThan she fled thro’ the broom.’

There was a knight and a lady brightSet trysts[208]amang the broom,The ane to come at morning ear[209],The other at afternoon.

‘I’ll wager, I’ll wager, I’ll wager wi’ youFive hundred merks and tenThat a maid shanna gae to the bonny broomAnd a maiden return again.’—

‘I’ll wager, I’ll wager, I’ll wager wi’ youFive hundred merks and tenThat a maid shall gae to the bonny green broomAnd a maiden return again.’

The may she sat at her mother’s bower doorAnd aye she made her mane:‘O whether shou’d I gang to the Broomfield Hill,Or should I stay at hame?

‘For if I do gang to the Broomfield Hill,A maid I’ll not return;But if I stay frae the Broomfield Hill,My love will ca’ me man-sworn.’

Up then spake an auld witch-wife,Sat in the bower abune:‘O ye may gang to the Broomfield Hill,And yet come maiden hame,

‘For when ye gang to the Broomfield Hill,Ye’ll find your love asleep,Wi’ a silver belt above his head,And a broom-cow[210]at his feet.

‘Tak’ ye the bloom frae aff the broom,Strew’t at his head an’ feet,And aye the thicker that ye do strew,The sounder he will sleep.

‘Tak’ ye the rings aff your fingers,Put them in his right hand,To let him know when he does wake,His love was at his command.’

Lord John has ta’en his milk-white steedAnd his hawk wi’ his bells sae bright,And he’s ridden swift to the Broomfield Hill,[Was never a baulder] knight.

‘Now rest, now rest, my milk-white steed,My lady will soon be here,And I’ll lay my head by this rose sae red,And the bonny burn sae near.’

She’s pu’d the broom-flower on Hive Hill,And strew’d on ’s white breast-bane,And that was to be wittering[211]trueThat maiden she had gane.

‘O where were ye, my milk-white steed,That I hae coft[212]sae dear,That wadna watch and waken meWhen there was maiden here?’—

‘I stampèd wi’ my foot, master,And gar’d my bridle ring,But no kin’ thing wald waken yeTill she was past and gane.’—

‘And wae betide ye, my gay goss-hawk,That I hae coft sae dear,That wadna watch an’ waken meWhen my true-love was here.’—

‘I clappèd wi’ my wings, master,And aye my bells I rang,And aye cried,Waken, waken, master,Before the ladye gang!’—

‘But haste, but haste, my gude white steed,To come the maiden till,Or a’ the birds of the gude greenwoodO’ your flesh shall have their fill!’—

‘Ye needna burst your gude white steedWi’ racing o’er the howm[213];Nae bird flies faster thro’ the woodThan she fled thro’ the broom.’

FOOTNOTES:[208]trysts = assignations.[209]ear = early.[210]broom-cow = branch of broom.[211]wittering = information, token.[212]coft = bought.[213]howm = holm, river-mead.

[208]trysts = assignations.

[209]ear = early.

[210]broom-cow = branch of broom.

[211]wittering = information, token.

[212]coft = bought.

[213]howm = holm, river-mead.

IIt was intill a pleasant time,Upon a simmer’s day,The noble Earl Mar’s daughterWent forth to sport and play.IIAnd while she play’d and sportedBelow a green aik tree,There she saw a sprightly doo[214]Set on a tower sae hie.III‘O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,If ye’ll come doun to me,Ye’se hae a cage o’ gude red gowdInstead o’ simple tree.IV‘I’ll put gowd hingers[215]roun’ your cage,And siller roun’ your wa’;I’ll gar ye shine as fair a birdAs ony o’ them a’.’VBut she had nae these words well spoke,Nor yet these words well said,Till Coo-me-doo flew frae the towerAnd lichted on her head.VIThen she has brought this pretty birdHame to her bowers and ha’,And made him shine as fair a birdAs ony o’ them a’.VIIWhen day was gone, and night was come,About the evening-tide,This lady spied a gallant youthStand straight up by her side.VIII‘From whence cam’ ye, young man?’ she said;‘That does surprise me sair;My door was bolted right secure,What way hae ye come here?’—IX‘O haud your tongue, ye lady fair,Lat a’ your folly be;Mind ye not o’ your turtle-dooYe wiled from aff the tree?’—X‘What country come ye frae?’ she said,‘An’ what’s your pedigree?’—‘O it was but this verra dayThat I cam’ ower the sea.XI‘My mither lives on foreign isles,A queen o’ high degree;And by her spells I am a dooWith you to live an’ dee.’—XII‘O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,Nae mair frae me ye’se gae.’—‘That’s never my intent, my love;As ye said, it shall be sae.’XIIIThen he has stay’d in bower wi’ herFor six lang years and ane,Till six young sons to him she bare,And the seventh she’s brought hame.XIVBut aye, as ever a child was born,He carried them away,And brought them to his mither’s careAs fast as he could fly.XVWhen he had stay’d in bower wi’ herFor seven lang years an’ mairThere cam’ a lord o’ high renownTo court this lady fair.XVIBut still his proffer she refusedAnd a’ his presents too;Says, ‘I’m content to live alaneWi’ my bird Coo-me-doo.’XVIIHer father swore a michty oathAmang the nobles all,‘The morn, or ere I eat or drink,This bird I will gar kill.’XVIIIThe bird was sitting in his cageAnd heard what they did say;Says, ‘Wae is me, and you forlorn,If I do langer stay!’XIXThen Coo-me-doo took flight and flewAnd afar beyond the sea,And lichted near his mither’s castleOn a tower o’ gowd sae hie.XXHis mither she was walking outTo see what she could see,And there she saw her one young sonSet on the tower sae hie.XXI‘Get dancers here to dance,’ she said,‘And minstrels for to play;For here’s my young son FlorentineCome hame wi’ me to stay.’—XXII‘Get nae dancers to dance, mither,Nor minstrels for to play;For the mither o’ my seven sons,The morn’s her wedding-day.’—XXIII‘O tell me, tell me, Florentine,Tell me, an tell me true;Tell me this day without a flawWhat I will do for you?’—XXIV‘Instead of dancers to dance, mither,Or minstrels for to play,Turn four-and-twenty well-wight[216]menLike storks in feathers gray:XXV‘My seven sons in seven swansAboon their heads to flee;And I mysel’ a gay goshawk,A bird o’ high degree.’XXVIThen siching said the Queen hersel’,‘That thing’s too high for me!’But she applied to an auld womanWha had mair skill than she.XXVIIInstead o’ dancers to dance a dance,Or minstrels for to play,Four-and-twenty well-wight menTurn’d birds o’ feathers gray.XXVIIIHer seven sons in seven swans,Aboon their heads to flee;And he himsel’ a gay goshawk,A bird o’ high degree.XXIXThis flock o’ birds took flight and flewBeyond the raging sea,And landed near the Earl Mar’s castle,Took shelter in every tree.XXXThey were a flock o’ pretty birdsRight comely to be seen;The people view’d them wi’ surpriseAs they dancèd on the green.XXXIThese birds flew out frae every treeAnd lichted on the ha’,And [frae the roof] with force did fleeAmang the nobles a’.XXXIIThe storks there seized [ilk wedding-guest]—They could not fight nor flee;The swans they bound the [bridegroom fast]Below a green aik tree.XXXIIIThey lichted next on the [bride-] maidens,Then on the bride’s own head;And wi’ the twinkling o’ an e’eThe bride an’ them were fled.XXXIVThere’s ancient men at weddings beenFor sixty years or more,But siccan a curious wedding-dayThey never saw before.XXXVFor naething could the companie do,Nor naething could they say;But they saw a flock o’ pretty birdsThat took their bride away.

It was intill a pleasant time,Upon a simmer’s day,The noble Earl Mar’s daughterWent forth to sport and play.

And while she play’d and sportedBelow a green aik tree,There she saw a sprightly doo[214]Set on a tower sae hie.

‘O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,If ye’ll come doun to me,Ye’se hae a cage o’ gude red gowdInstead o’ simple tree.

‘I’ll put gowd hingers[215]roun’ your cage,And siller roun’ your wa’;I’ll gar ye shine as fair a birdAs ony o’ them a’.’

But she had nae these words well spoke,Nor yet these words well said,Till Coo-me-doo flew frae the towerAnd lichted on her head.

Then she has brought this pretty birdHame to her bowers and ha’,And made him shine as fair a birdAs ony o’ them a’.

When day was gone, and night was come,About the evening-tide,This lady spied a gallant youthStand straight up by her side.

‘From whence cam’ ye, young man?’ she said;‘That does surprise me sair;My door was bolted right secure,What way hae ye come here?’—

‘O haud your tongue, ye lady fair,Lat a’ your folly be;Mind ye not o’ your turtle-dooYe wiled from aff the tree?’—

‘What country come ye frae?’ she said,‘An’ what’s your pedigree?’—‘O it was but this verra dayThat I cam’ ower the sea.

‘My mither lives on foreign isles,A queen o’ high degree;And by her spells I am a dooWith you to live an’ dee.’—

‘O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,Nae mair frae me ye’se gae.’—‘That’s never my intent, my love;As ye said, it shall be sae.’

Then he has stay’d in bower wi’ herFor six lang years and ane,Till six young sons to him she bare,And the seventh she’s brought hame.

But aye, as ever a child was born,He carried them away,And brought them to his mither’s careAs fast as he could fly.

When he had stay’d in bower wi’ herFor seven lang years an’ mairThere cam’ a lord o’ high renownTo court this lady fair.

But still his proffer she refusedAnd a’ his presents too;Says, ‘I’m content to live alaneWi’ my bird Coo-me-doo.’

Her father swore a michty oathAmang the nobles all,‘The morn, or ere I eat or drink,This bird I will gar kill.’

The bird was sitting in his cageAnd heard what they did say;Says, ‘Wae is me, and you forlorn,If I do langer stay!’

Then Coo-me-doo took flight and flewAnd afar beyond the sea,And lichted near his mither’s castleOn a tower o’ gowd sae hie.

His mither she was walking outTo see what she could see,And there she saw her one young sonSet on the tower sae hie.

‘Get dancers here to dance,’ she said,‘And minstrels for to play;For here’s my young son FlorentineCome hame wi’ me to stay.’—

‘Get nae dancers to dance, mither,Nor minstrels for to play;For the mither o’ my seven sons,The morn’s her wedding-day.’—

‘O tell me, tell me, Florentine,Tell me, an tell me true;Tell me this day without a flawWhat I will do for you?’—

‘Instead of dancers to dance, mither,Or minstrels for to play,Turn four-and-twenty well-wight[216]menLike storks in feathers gray:

‘My seven sons in seven swansAboon their heads to flee;And I mysel’ a gay goshawk,A bird o’ high degree.’

Then siching said the Queen hersel’,‘That thing’s too high for me!’But she applied to an auld womanWha had mair skill than she.

Instead o’ dancers to dance a dance,Or minstrels for to play,Four-and-twenty well-wight menTurn’d birds o’ feathers gray.

Her seven sons in seven swans,Aboon their heads to flee;And he himsel’ a gay goshawk,A bird o’ high degree.

This flock o’ birds took flight and flewBeyond the raging sea,And landed near the Earl Mar’s castle,Took shelter in every tree.

They were a flock o’ pretty birdsRight comely to be seen;The people view’d them wi’ surpriseAs they dancèd on the green.

These birds flew out frae every treeAnd lichted on the ha’,And [frae the roof] with force did fleeAmang the nobles a’.

The storks there seized [ilk wedding-guest]—They could not fight nor flee;The swans they bound the [bridegroom fast]Below a green aik tree.

They lichted next on the [bride-] maidens,Then on the bride’s own head;And wi’ the twinkling o’ an e’eThe bride an’ them were fled.

There’s ancient men at weddings beenFor sixty years or more,But siccan a curious wedding-dayThey never saw before.

For naething could the companie do,Nor naething could they say;But they saw a flock o’ pretty birdsThat took their bride away.

FOOTNOTES:[214]doo = dove.[215]hingers = hangings, curtains.[216]well-wight = strong, lusty.

[214]doo = dove.

[215]hingers = hangings, curtains.

[216]well-wight = strong, lusty.

IFair Margret was a proud ladye,The King’s cousin was she;Fair Margret was a rich ladye,An’ vain as vain cou’d be.IIAe night she sat in her stately ha’Kaimin’ her yellow hair,When in there cam’ a gentle Knight,An’ a white scarf he did wear.III‘O what’s your will wi’ me, Sir Knight?O what’s your will wi’ me?You’re the likest to my ae britherThat ever I did see.IV‘You’re the likest to my ae britherThat ever I hae seen;But he’s buried in Dunfermline kirkA month an’ mair bygane.’—V‘I’m the likest to your ae britherThat ever ye did see;But I canna get rest in my grave,A’ for the pride o’ thee.VI‘Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,Leave pride an’ vanity;Cou’d ye see the sights that I hae seenSair warnèd ye wou’d be.VII‘For the wee worms are my bedfellows,An’ cauld clay is my sheets,An’ when the stormy winds do blowMy body lies and sleeps.VIII‘O ye come in at the kirk-doorWi’ the red gowd on your crown;But when you come where I have been,You’ll wear it laigher[217]down.IX‘O ye come in at the kirk doorWi’ the gowd prins[218]i’ your sleeve,But when you come where I have beenYe maun gie them a’ their leave.X‘Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,Leave pride an’ vanity;Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,Sair alter’d ye maun be.’XIHe got her in her stately ha’,Kaimin’ her yellow hair;He left her on her sick, sick bedMournin’ her sins sae sair.

Fair Margret was a proud ladye,The King’s cousin was she;Fair Margret was a rich ladye,An’ vain as vain cou’d be.

Ae night she sat in her stately ha’Kaimin’ her yellow hair,When in there cam’ a gentle Knight,An’ a white scarf he did wear.

‘O what’s your will wi’ me, Sir Knight?O what’s your will wi’ me?You’re the likest to my ae britherThat ever I did see.

‘You’re the likest to my ae britherThat ever I hae seen;But he’s buried in Dunfermline kirkA month an’ mair bygane.’—

‘I’m the likest to your ae britherThat ever ye did see;But I canna get rest in my grave,A’ for the pride o’ thee.

‘Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,Leave pride an’ vanity;Cou’d ye see the sights that I hae seenSair warnèd ye wou’d be.

‘For the wee worms are my bedfellows,An’ cauld clay is my sheets,An’ when the stormy winds do blowMy body lies and sleeps.

‘O ye come in at the kirk-doorWi’ the red gowd on your crown;But when you come where I have been,You’ll wear it laigher[217]down.

‘O ye come in at the kirk doorWi’ the gowd prins[218]i’ your sleeve,But when you come where I have beenYe maun gie them a’ their leave.

‘Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,Leave pride an’ vanity;Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,Sair alter’d ye maun be.’

He got her in her stately ha’,Kaimin’ her yellow hair;He left her on her sick, sick bedMournin’ her sins sae sair.

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