Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,His name was Andrew Lammie;He had the art to gain the heartOf Mill-o'-Tifty's Annie.* * *She sighed sore, but said no more,Alas, for bonny Annie!She durst not own her heart was wonBy the trumpeter of Fyvie.At night when they went to their beds,All slept full sound but Annie;Love so opprest her tender breast,Thinking on Andrew Lammie.'Love comes in at my bed-side,And love lies down beyond me,Love has possessed my tender breast,And wastes away my body.'At Fyvie yetts there grows a flower,It grows baith braid and bonny;There is a daisy in the midst o' it.And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie.'O gin that flower were in my breast,For the love I bear the laddie,I wad kiss it, and I wad clap it,And daut it for Andrew Lammie.'The first time I and my love metWas in the woods of Fyvie;His lovely form and speech so sweetSoon gained the heart of Annie.'Oh, up and down, in Tifty's den,Where the burns run clear and bonny,I've often gone to meet my love,My bonny Andrew Lammie.'He kissed my lips five thousand times,And aye he ca'd me bonny;And a' the answer he gat frae me,Was, "My bonny Andrew Lammie!"'But now, alas! her father heardThat the trumpeter of FyvieHad had the art to gain the heartOf Tifty's bonny Annie.And he has syne a letter wrote,And sent it on to Fyvie,To tell his daughter was bewitchedBy his servant, Andrew Lammie.When Lord Fyvie this letter read,O dear, but he was sorry;'The bonniest lass in Fyvie's landIs bewitched by Andrew Lammie.'Then up the stair his trumpeterHe called soon and shortly;'Pray tell me soon what's this you've doneTo Tifty's bonny Annie?''In wicked art I had no part,Nor therein am I canny;True love alone the heart has wonOf Tifty's bonny Annie.'Woe betide Mill-o'-Tifty's pride,For it has ruined many;He'll no hae't said that she should wedThe trumpeter of Fyvie.'* * *'Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh;Love, I maun gang and leave thee.'She sighed sore, and said no more,But, 'Oh, gin I were wi' ye!''I'll buy to thee a bridal goun;My love, I'll buy it bonny!''But I'll be dead, ere ye come backTo see your bonny Annie.''If you'll be true, and constant too,As my name's Andrew Lammie,I shall thee wed when I come back,Within the kirk of Fyvie.''I will be true, and constant too,To thee, my Andrew Lammie;But my bridal-bed will ere then be madeIn the green kirk-yard of Fyvie.'He hied him hame, and having spieledTo the house-top of Fyvie,He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,'Twas heard at Mill-o'-Tifty.Her father locked the door at night,Laid by the keys fu' canny;And when he heard the trumpet sound,Said: 'Your cow is lowing, Annie.''My father, dear, I pray forbear,And reproach no more your Annie;For I'd rather hear that cow to lowThan hae a' the kine in Fyvie.'I would not for your braw new gown,And a' your gifts sae many,That it were told in Fyvie's landHow cruel you are to me.'Her father struck her wondrous sore,As also did her mother;Her sisters always did her scorn,As also did her brother.Her brother struck her wondrous sore,With cruel strokes and many;He brak her back in the hall-door,For loving Andrew Lammie.'Alas, my father and mother dear,Why are you so cruel to Annie?My heart was broken first by love,Now you have broken my bodie.'Oh, mother dear, make ye my bed,And lay my face to Fyvie;There will I lie, and thus will die,For my love, Andrew Lammie.'Her mother she has made her bed,And laid her face to Fyvie;Her tender heart it soon did break,And she ne'er saw Andrew Lammie.When Andrew home from Edinburgh came,With mickle grief and sorrow:'My love has died for me to-day,I'll die for her to-morrow.'He has gone on to Tifty's den,Where the burn runs clear and bonny;With tears he viewed the Bridge of Heugh,Where he parted last with Annie.Then he has sped to the church-yard,To the green church-yard of Fyvie;With tears he watered his true love's grave,And died for Tifty's Annie.
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,His name was Andrew Lammie;He had the art to gain the heartOf Mill-o'-Tifty's Annie.
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,
His name was Andrew Lammie;
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill-o'-Tifty's Annie.
* * *
* * *
She sighed sore, but said no more,Alas, for bonny Annie!She durst not own her heart was wonBy the trumpeter of Fyvie.
She sighed sore, but said no more,
Alas, for bonny Annie!
She durst not own her heart was won
By the trumpeter of Fyvie.
At night when they went to their beds,All slept full sound but Annie;Love so opprest her tender breast,Thinking on Andrew Lammie.
At night when they went to their beds,
All slept full sound but Annie;
Love so opprest her tender breast,
Thinking on Andrew Lammie.
'Love comes in at my bed-side,And love lies down beyond me,Love has possessed my tender breast,And wastes away my body.
'Love comes in at my bed-side,
And love lies down beyond me,
Love has possessed my tender breast,
And wastes away my body.
'At Fyvie yetts there grows a flower,It grows baith braid and bonny;There is a daisy in the midst o' it.And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie.
'At Fyvie yetts there grows a flower,
It grows baith braid and bonny;
There is a daisy in the midst o' it.
And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie.
'O gin that flower were in my breast,For the love I bear the laddie,I wad kiss it, and I wad clap it,And daut it for Andrew Lammie.
'O gin that flower were in my breast,
For the love I bear the laddie,
I wad kiss it, and I wad clap it,
And daut it for Andrew Lammie.
'The first time I and my love metWas in the woods of Fyvie;His lovely form and speech so sweetSoon gained the heart of Annie.
'The first time I and my love met
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
His lovely form and speech so sweet
Soon gained the heart of Annie.
'Oh, up and down, in Tifty's den,Where the burns run clear and bonny,I've often gone to meet my love,My bonny Andrew Lammie.
'Oh, up and down, in Tifty's den,
Where the burns run clear and bonny,
I've often gone to meet my love,
My bonny Andrew Lammie.
'He kissed my lips five thousand times,And aye he ca'd me bonny;And a' the answer he gat frae me,Was, "My bonny Andrew Lammie!"'
'He kissed my lips five thousand times,
And aye he ca'd me bonny;
And a' the answer he gat frae me,
Was, "My bonny Andrew Lammie!"'
But now, alas! her father heardThat the trumpeter of FyvieHad had the art to gain the heartOf Tifty's bonny Annie.
But now, alas! her father heard
That the trumpeter of Fyvie
Had had the art to gain the heart
Of Tifty's bonny Annie.
And he has syne a letter wrote,And sent it on to Fyvie,To tell his daughter was bewitchedBy his servant, Andrew Lammie.
And he has syne a letter wrote,
And sent it on to Fyvie,
To tell his daughter was bewitched
By his servant, Andrew Lammie.
When Lord Fyvie this letter read,O dear, but he was sorry;'The bonniest lass in Fyvie's landIs bewitched by Andrew Lammie.'
When Lord Fyvie this letter read,
O dear, but he was sorry;
'The bonniest lass in Fyvie's land
Is bewitched by Andrew Lammie.'
Then up the stair his trumpeterHe called soon and shortly;'Pray tell me soon what's this you've doneTo Tifty's bonny Annie?'
Then up the stair his trumpeter
He called soon and shortly;
'Pray tell me soon what's this you've done
To Tifty's bonny Annie?'
'In wicked art I had no part,Nor therein am I canny;True love alone the heart has wonOf Tifty's bonny Annie.
'In wicked art I had no part,
Nor therein am I canny;
True love alone the heart has won
Of Tifty's bonny Annie.
'Woe betide Mill-o'-Tifty's pride,For it has ruined many;He'll no hae't said that she should wedThe trumpeter of Fyvie.'
'Woe betide Mill-o'-Tifty's pride,
For it has ruined many;
He'll no hae't said that she should wed
The trumpeter of Fyvie.'
* * *
* * *
'Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh;Love, I maun gang and leave thee.'She sighed sore, and said no more,But, 'Oh, gin I were wi' ye!'
'Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh;
Love, I maun gang and leave thee.'
She sighed sore, and said no more,
But, 'Oh, gin I were wi' ye!'
'I'll buy to thee a bridal goun;My love, I'll buy it bonny!''But I'll be dead, ere ye come backTo see your bonny Annie.'
'I'll buy to thee a bridal goun;
My love, I'll buy it bonny!'
'But I'll be dead, ere ye come back
To see your bonny Annie.'
'If you'll be true, and constant too,As my name's Andrew Lammie,I shall thee wed when I come back,Within the kirk of Fyvie.'
'If you'll be true, and constant too,
As my name's Andrew Lammie,
I shall thee wed when I come back,
Within the kirk of Fyvie.'
'I will be true, and constant too,To thee, my Andrew Lammie;But my bridal-bed will ere then be madeIn the green kirk-yard of Fyvie.'
'I will be true, and constant too,
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
But my bridal-bed will ere then be made
In the green kirk-yard of Fyvie.'
He hied him hame, and having spieledTo the house-top of Fyvie,He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,'Twas heard at Mill-o'-Tifty.
He hied him hame, and having spieled
To the house-top of Fyvie,
He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,
'Twas heard at Mill-o'-Tifty.
Her father locked the door at night,Laid by the keys fu' canny;And when he heard the trumpet sound,Said: 'Your cow is lowing, Annie.'
Her father locked the door at night,
Laid by the keys fu' canny;
And when he heard the trumpet sound,
Said: 'Your cow is lowing, Annie.'
'My father, dear, I pray forbear,And reproach no more your Annie;For I'd rather hear that cow to lowThan hae a' the kine in Fyvie.
'My father, dear, I pray forbear,
And reproach no more your Annie;
For I'd rather hear that cow to low
Than hae a' the kine in Fyvie.
'I would not for your braw new gown,And a' your gifts sae many,That it were told in Fyvie's landHow cruel you are to me.'
'I would not for your braw new gown,
And a' your gifts sae many,
That it were told in Fyvie's land
How cruel you are to me.'
Her father struck her wondrous sore,As also did her mother;Her sisters always did her scorn,As also did her brother.
Her father struck her wondrous sore,
As also did her mother;
Her sisters always did her scorn,
As also did her brother.
Her brother struck her wondrous sore,With cruel strokes and many;He brak her back in the hall-door,For loving Andrew Lammie.
Her brother struck her wondrous sore,
With cruel strokes and many;
He brak her back in the hall-door,
For loving Andrew Lammie.
'Alas, my father and mother dear,Why are you so cruel to Annie?My heart was broken first by love,Now you have broken my bodie.
'Alas, my father and mother dear,
Why are you so cruel to Annie?
My heart was broken first by love,
Now you have broken my bodie.
'Oh, mother dear, make ye my bed,And lay my face to Fyvie;There will I lie, and thus will die,For my love, Andrew Lammie.'
'Oh, mother dear, make ye my bed,
And lay my face to Fyvie;
There will I lie, and thus will die,
For my love, Andrew Lammie.'
Her mother she has made her bed,And laid her face to Fyvie;Her tender heart it soon did break,And she ne'er saw Andrew Lammie.
Her mother she has made her bed,
And laid her face to Fyvie;
Her tender heart it soon did break,
And she ne'er saw Andrew Lammie.
When Andrew home from Edinburgh came,With mickle grief and sorrow:'My love has died for me to-day,I'll die for her to-morrow.'
When Andrew home from Edinburgh came,
With mickle grief and sorrow:
'My love has died for me to-day,
I'll die for her to-morrow.'
He has gone on to Tifty's den,Where the burn runs clear and bonny;With tears he viewed the Bridge of Heugh,Where he parted last with Annie.
He has gone on to Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny;
With tears he viewed the Bridge of Heugh,
Where he parted last with Annie.
Then he has sped to the church-yard,To the green church-yard of Fyvie;With tears he watered his true love's grave,And died for Tifty's Annie.
Then he has sped to the church-yard,
To the green church-yard of Fyvie;
With tears he watered his true love's grave,
And died for Tifty's Annie.
Let me repeat my acknowledgment that, while these extracts occupy more space than can well be spared, they form an imperfect means of establishing the negative evidence required in the case. But let the reader peruse the ballads of Buchan's collection known to relate to incidents of the seventeenth century, and he will find that they are all alike free from the favourite expressions of the unknown, or dimly known ballad-writer in question.
Let it never be objected that, if any one person living in the reigns of Queen Anne and George I. had composed so many fine poems, he or she could not have remained till now all but unknown. In the first half of the present century, there appeared in Scotland a series of fugitive pieces—songs—which attained a great popularity, without their being traced to any author. Every reader will rememberThe Land of the Leal,Caller Herring,The Laird o' Cockpen,The Auld House, andHe's ower the Hills that I lo'e weel. It was not till after many years of fame that these pieces were found to be the production of a lady of rank, Carolina Baroness Nairn, who had passed through a life of seventy-nine years without being known as a song-writer to more than one person. It was the fate of this songstress to live in days when there was an interest felt in such authorships, insuring that she should sooner or later become known; but, had she lived a hundred years earlier, she might have died and left no sign, as I conjecture to have been the case with the author of this fine group of ballads; and future Burnses might have pondered over her productions, with endless regret that the names of theirauthorswere 'buried among the wreck of things that were.'
If there be any truth or force in this speculation, I shall be permitted to indulge in the idea that a person lived a hundred years before Scott, who, with his feeling for Scottish history, and the features of the past generally, constructed out of these materials a similar romantic literature. In short, Scotland appears to have had a Scott a hundred years before the actual person so named. And we may well believe that if we had not had the first, we either should not have had the second, or he would have been something considerably different, for, beyond question, Sir Walter's genius was fed and nurtured on the ballad literature of his native country. From hisOld MortalityandWaverley, back to hisLadyof the Lake and Marmion; from these to hisLay of the Last Minstrel; from that to hisEve of St JohnandGlenfinlas; and from these, again, to the ballads which he collected, mainly the produce (as I surmise) of an individual precursor, is a series of steps easily traced, and which no one will dispute. Much significance there is, indeed, in his own statement, thatHardyknutewas the first poem he ever learned, and the last he should forget. Its author—if my suspicion be correct—was his literary foster-mother, and we probably owe the direction of his genius, and all its fascinating results, primarily to her.
Footnotes
[1]A Scotticism, plural of corp, a body.
[1]A Scotticism, plural of corp, a body.
[2]Permit no robbers, &c.
[2]Permit no robbers, &c.
[3]Only omitting the five verses supplied by Mr Hamilton, as they appear redundant.
[3]Only omitting the five verses supplied by Mr Hamilton, as they appear redundant.
[4]Serve.
[4]Serve.
[5]Variation in Scott:Now ever alake, my master dear.
[5]Variation in Scott:
Now ever alake, my master dear.
Now ever alake, my master dear.
Now ever alake, my master dear.
[6]Variation in Scott:They wet their hats aboon.
[6]Variation in Scott:
They wet their hats aboon.
They wet their hats aboon.
They wet their hats aboon.
[7]Variation in Scott:O forty miles off Aberdeen.
[7]Variation in Scott:
O forty miles off Aberdeen.
O forty miles off Aberdeen.
O forty miles off Aberdeen.
[8]There is one insuperable objection to Sir Walter's theory, which I am surprised should not have occurred to himself, or to some of those who have followed him. In his version of the ballad, the design to bring home the daughter of the king of Norway is expressed by the king of Scotland himself. Now, there was no occasion for Alexander III. sending for his infant granddaughter; nor is it conceivable that, in his lifetime, such a notion should have occurred or been entertained on either his side or that of the child's father. It was not till after the death of Alexander had made the infant Norwegian princess queen of Scotland—four years after that event, indeed—that theguardians of the kingdom, in concert with Edward I. of England, sent for her by Sir David Wemyss of Wemyss and Sir Michael Scott of Balwearie, who actually brought her home, but in a dying state. For these reasons, on the theory of the ballad referring to a real occurrence, it must have been to the bringing home of some Norwegian princess to be wedded to a king of Scotland that it referred.But there is no such event in Scottish history.Professor Aytoun alters a verse of the ballad as follows:To Noroway, to Noroway,To Noroway o'er the faem;The king's daughtertoNoroway,It's thou maun tak her hame.And he omits the verse in which Sir Patrick says:The king's daughter of Noroway,'Tis we must fetch her hame.Thus making the ballad referrible to the expedition in 1281 for taking Alexander's daughter to be married to the king of Norway. But I apprehend such liberties with an old ballad are wholly unwarrantable.
[8]There is one insuperable objection to Sir Walter's theory, which I am surprised should not have occurred to himself, or to some of those who have followed him. In his version of the ballad, the design to bring home the daughter of the king of Norway is expressed by the king of Scotland himself. Now, there was no occasion for Alexander III. sending for his infant granddaughter; nor is it conceivable that, in his lifetime, such a notion should have occurred or been entertained on either his side or that of the child's father. It was not till after the death of Alexander had made the infant Norwegian princess queen of Scotland—four years after that event, indeed—that theguardians of the kingdom, in concert with Edward I. of England, sent for her by Sir David Wemyss of Wemyss and Sir Michael Scott of Balwearie, who actually brought her home, but in a dying state. For these reasons, on the theory of the ballad referring to a real occurrence, it must have been to the bringing home of some Norwegian princess to be wedded to a king of Scotland that it referred.But there is no such event in Scottish history.
Professor Aytoun alters a verse of the ballad as follows:
To Noroway, to Noroway,To Noroway o'er the faem;The king's daughtertoNoroway,It's thou maun tak her hame.
To Noroway, to Noroway,To Noroway o'er the faem;The king's daughtertoNoroway,It's thou maun tak her hame.
To Noroway, to Noroway,
To Noroway o'er the faem;
The king's daughtertoNoroway,
It's thou maun tak her hame.
And he omits the verse in which Sir Patrick says:
The king's daughter of Noroway,'Tis we must fetch her hame.
The king's daughter of Noroway,'Tis we must fetch her hame.
The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis we must fetch her hame.
Thus making the ballad referrible to the expedition in 1281 for taking Alexander's daughter to be married to the king of Norway. But I apprehend such liberties with an old ballad are wholly unwarrantable.
[9]Notes to Johnson'sScots Musical Museum, 1839.
[9]Notes to Johnson'sScots Musical Museum, 1839.
[10]Professor Aytoun says: 'It is true that the name [of Sir Patrick Spence] ... is not mentioned in history: but I am able to state that tradition has preserved it. In the little island of Papa Stronsay, one of the Orcadian group, lying over against Norway, there is a large grave or tumulus, which has been known to the inhabitants from time immemorial as "The grave of Sir Patrick Spence." The Scottish ballads were not early current in Orkney, a Scandinavian country; to it is very unlikely that the poem could have originated the name.' I demur to this unlikelihood, and would require some proof to convince me that the grave of Sir Patrick Spence in Papa Stronsay is not a parallel geographical phenomenon to the island of Ellen Douglas in Loch Katrine.
[10]Professor Aytoun says: 'It is true that the name [of Sir Patrick Spence] ... is not mentioned in history: but I am able to state that tradition has preserved it. In the little island of Papa Stronsay, one of the Orcadian group, lying over against Norway, there is a large grave or tumulus, which has been known to the inhabitants from time immemorial as "The grave of Sir Patrick Spence." The Scottish ballads were not early current in Orkney, a Scandinavian country; to it is very unlikely that the poem could have originated the name.' I demur to this unlikelihood, and would require some proof to convince me that the grave of Sir Patrick Spence in Papa Stronsay is not a parallel geographical phenomenon to the island of Ellen Douglas in Loch Katrine.
[11]Playfair'sBrit. Fam. Antiquity, viii., 170, lxviii.
[11]Playfair'sBrit. Fam. Antiquity, viii., 170, lxviii.
[12]Ancient Scottish Poems, 2 vols. (1786), i. p. cxxvii.
[12]Ancient Scottish Poems, 2 vols. (1786), i. p. cxxvii.
[13]It is rather remarkable that Percy was not informed of these particulars in 1765; but in 1767—Sir John Hope Bruce having died in the interval(June 1766)—they were communicated to him. It looks as if the secret had hung on the life of this venerable gentleman.
[13]It is rather remarkable that Percy was not informed of these particulars in 1765; but in 1767—Sir John Hope Bruce having died in the interval(June 1766)—they were communicated to him. It looks as if the secret had hung on the life of this venerable gentleman.
[14]Young Watersopens in the same manner:About Yule, when the wind blew cool.
[14]Young Watersopens in the same manner:
About Yule, when the wind blew cool.
About Yule, when the wind blew cool.
About Yule, when the wind blew cool.
[15]We have seen the same description in bothYoung Watersand theBonny Earl of Murray.
[15]We have seen the same description in bothYoung Watersand theBonny Earl of Murray.
[16]Compare this withSir Patrick Spence:'Mak haste, mak haste, my merry men a'.'
[16]Compare this withSir Patrick Spence:
'Mak haste, mak haste, my merry men a'.'
'Mak haste, mak haste, my merry men a'.'
'Mak haste, mak haste, my merry men a'.'
[17]In aCollection of Old Ballads, printed for J. Roberts, London, 1723; also in Thomson'sOrpheus Caledonius, 1733.
[17]In aCollection of Old Ballads, printed for J. Roberts, London, 1723; also in Thomson'sOrpheus Caledonius, 1733.
[18]The appellative, Gilderoy, means the ruddy-complexioned lad.
[18]The appellative, Gilderoy, means the ruddy-complexioned lad.
[19]Professor Aytoun says of this ballad, that 'it was adapted from the original by Sir Alexander Halket—at least, such was the general understanding until lately, when it became a mania with some literary antiquaries [a glance at the opinions of the present writer] to attribute the authorship of the great bulk of the Scottish ballads to Sir Alexander's sister, Lady Wardlaw, on the single ground that she was the composer ofHardyknute.' My learned friend is here very unlucky, for Lady Wardlaw had no brother, nor does any Sir Alexander Halket appear in her family history. This, however, is not all. It was a song to thetune of Gilderoywhich was attributed to Sir Alexander Halket (Johnson'sScots Musical Museum)—namely, the well-knownAh, Chloris, which turns out to be a composition of Sir Charles Sedley, inserted by him in a play entitled theMulberry Garden, which was acted in 1668.
[19]Professor Aytoun says of this ballad, that 'it was adapted from the original by Sir Alexander Halket—at least, such was the general understanding until lately, when it became a mania with some literary antiquaries [a glance at the opinions of the present writer] to attribute the authorship of the great bulk of the Scottish ballads to Sir Alexander's sister, Lady Wardlaw, on the single ground that she was the composer ofHardyknute.' My learned friend is here very unlucky, for Lady Wardlaw had no brother, nor does any Sir Alexander Halket appear in her family history. This, however, is not all. It was a song to thetune of Gilderoywhich was attributed to Sir Alexander Halket (Johnson'sScots Musical Museum)—namely, the well-knownAh, Chloris, which turns out to be a composition of Sir Charles Sedley, inserted by him in a play entitled theMulberry Garden, which was acted in 1668.
[20]The above three verses are in the version printed in Lawrie and Symington's collection, 1791.
[20]The above three verses are in the version printed in Lawrie and Symington's collection, 1791.
[21]A passage inHardyknutemaybe quoted as bearing a marked resemblance to one of the above verses:Take aff, take aff his costly jupe,Of gold well was it twined, &c.
[21]A passage inHardyknutemaybe quoted as bearing a marked resemblance to one of the above verses:
Take aff, take aff his costly jupe,Of gold well was it twined, &c.
Take aff, take aff his costly jupe,Of gold well was it twined, &c.
Take aff, take aff his costly jupe,
Of gold well was it twined, &c.
[22]Called, in Professor Aytoun's collection,The Mother's Malison; and in Mr Buchan's,The Drowned Lovers.
[22]Called, in Professor Aytoun's collection,The Mother's Malison; and in Mr Buchan's,The Drowned Lovers.
[23]A ballad namedBurd Ellen, resemblingFair Anniein the general cast of the story, is a Scottish modification of the ballad ofChild Waters, published by Percy, from his folio manuscript, 'with some corrections.' It probably came through the same mill asGil Morrice, though with less change—a conjecture rendered the more probable, for reasons to be seen afterwards, from its having been obtained by Mr Jamieson from Mrs Brown of Falkland.
[23]A ballad namedBurd Ellen, resemblingFair Anniein the general cast of the story, is a Scottish modification of the ballad ofChild Waters, published by Percy, from his folio manuscript, 'with some corrections.' It probably came through the same mill asGil Morrice, though with less change—a conjecture rendered the more probable, for reasons to be seen afterwards, from its having been obtained by Mr Jamieson from Mrs Brown of Falkland.
[24]Now he has ta'en his trusty brand,And slait it on the strae,And through Gil Morrice's fair bodieHe garred cauld iron gae.—Gil Morrice.
[24]
Now he has ta'en his trusty brand,And slait it on the strae,And through Gil Morrice's fair bodieHe garred cauld iron gae.—Gil Morrice.
Now he has ta'en his trusty brand,And slait it on the strae,And through Gil Morrice's fair bodieHe garred cauld iron gae.—Gil Morrice.
Now he has ta'en his trusty brand,
And slait it on the strae,
And through Gil Morrice's fair bodie
He garred cauld iron gae.—Gil Morrice.
[25]And first he kissed her cherry cheek,And syne he kissed her chin;And syne he kissed her rosy lips—There was nae breath within.—Lass o' Lochryan.
[25]
And first he kissed her cherry cheek,And syne he kissed her chin;And syne he kissed her rosy lips—There was nae breath within.—Lass o' Lochryan.
And first he kissed her cherry cheek,And syne he kissed her chin;And syne he kissed her rosy lips—There was nae breath within.—Lass o' Lochryan.
And first he kissed her cherry cheek,
And syne he kissed her chin;
And syne he kissed her rosy lips—
There was nae breath within.—Lass o' Lochryan.
To kiss cheek and chin in succession is very peculiar; and it is by such peculiar ideas that identity of authorship is indicated.
To kiss cheek and chin in succession is very peculiar; and it is by such peculiar ideas that identity of authorship is indicated.
[26]That is, so exactly measured.
[26]That is, so exactly measured.
[27]InChilde Maurice, in Percy's folio manuscript, the hero says:'... come hither, thou little foot-page,That runneth lowly by my knee.'The author ofSir Patrick Spence, and the other ballads in question, might have known this version, and from it caught this expression.
[27]InChilde Maurice, in Percy's folio manuscript, the hero says:
'... come hither, thou little foot-page,That runneth lowly by my knee.'
'... come hither, thou little foot-page,That runneth lowly by my knee.'
'... come hither, thou little foot-page,
That runneth lowly by my knee.'
The author ofSir Patrick Spence, and the other ballads in question, might have known this version, and from it caught this expression.
[28]Minstrelsy Scot. Border, I. cxxvi.
[28]Minstrelsy Scot. Border, I. cxxvi.
[29]Robert Jamieson found in theKœmpe Viser, a Danish collection of ballads published in 1695, one resembling the Scottish ballad ofFair Annie(otherwise calledLady Jane), and on this ground he became convinced that many of our traditionary ballads were of prodigious antiquity, though they had been intermediately subjected to many alterations. Mr Jamieson's belief seems remarkably ill supported, and as it has never obtained any adherents among Scottish ballad editors, I feel entitled to pass it over with but this slight notice.
[29]Robert Jamieson found in theKœmpe Viser, a Danish collection of ballads published in 1695, one resembling the Scottish ballad ofFair Annie(otherwise calledLady Jane), and on this ground he became convinced that many of our traditionary ballads were of prodigious antiquity, though they had been intermediately subjected to many alterations. Mr Jamieson's belief seems remarkably ill supported, and as it has never obtained any adherents among Scottish ballad editors, I feel entitled to pass it over with but this slight notice.