"Ohon! alas, for I was youngest,
And aye my weird it was the hardest!
The kevil it on me did fa',
Whilk was the cause of a' my woe.
(_carline_, old woman. _stark_, strong, _sture_, big.
_dang_, struck, _dure_, door. _kevils_, lots. _weird_, destiny.)
"For to the green-wood I maun gae,
To pu' the red rose and the slae;
To pu' the red rose and the thyme,
To deck my mother's bower and mine.
"I hadna pu'd a flower but ane,
When by there came a gallant hend,
Wi* high-coll'd hose and laigh-coll'd shoon,
And he seem'd to be some king's son.
"And be I a maid, or be I nae,
He kept me there till the close o' day;
And be I a maid, or be I nane,
He kept me there till the day was done.
"He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair,
And bade me keep it ever mair;
He gae me a carknet o' bonny beads,
And bade me keep it against my needs.
"He gae to me a gay gold ring,
And bade me keep it abune a' thing."--
"What did ye wi' the tokens rare,
That ye gat frae that gallant there?"--
"O bring that coffer unto me,
And a' the tokens ye sall see."--
"Now stay, daughter, your bower within,
While I gae parley wi' my son."--
(_slae_, sloe. _hend_, handsome, _coll'd_, cut. _laigh_, low. _carknet_, necklace.)
O she has ta'en her thro' the ha,
And on her son began to ca;
"What did ye wi' the bonny beads
I bade you keep against your needs?
"What did you wi' the gay gold ring
I bade you keep abune a' thing?"--
"I gae them to a lady gay,
I met on green-wood on a day.
"But I wad gie a' my halls and towers,
I had that lady within my bowers;
But I wad gie my very life,
I had that lady to my wife."--
"Now keep, my son, your halls and towers,
Ye have the bright burd in your bowers;
And keep, my son, your very life,
Ye have that lady to your wife."--
Now, or a month was come and gane,
The lady bare a bonny son;
And 'twas weel written on his breast-bane,
"Cospatrick is my fathers name."
"O row my lady in satin and silk,
And wash my son in the morning milk."
(_burd_, maid. _row_, wrap.)
[Illustration: 0266[
YOUNG TAM LIN.
|O I forbid ye, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.
"There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh,
But they leave him a wad,
Either their rings, or green mantles,
Or else their maidenhead.
Janet has kilted her green kirtle,
A little aboon her knee;
And she has braided her yellow hair,
A little aboon her bree,
And she's awa to Carterhaugh,
As fast as she can hie.
(_wad_, wager, forfeit. _bree_, brow.)
When she came to Carterhaugh,
Tam Lin was at the well;
And there she found his steed standing,
But away was himsel'.
[Illustration: 0267]
She hadna pu'd a double rose,
A rose but only twa;
Till up then started Young Tam Lin,
Says, "Lady, thou's pu* nae mae."
--"Why pu's thou the rose, Janet?
And why breaks thou the wand?
Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh,
Withouten my command?"--
--"Carterhaugh it is my ain;
My daddy gave it me;
I'll come and gang by Carterhaugh,
And ask nae leave at thee."
Janet has kilted her green kirtle,
A little aboon her knee;
And she has snooded her yellow hair,
A little aboon her bree,
And she is to her fathers ha'
As fast as she can hie.
Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the ba';
And out then came fair Janet,
Ance the flower among them a'.
Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the chess;
And out then came the fair Janet,
As green as any grass.
Out then spak an auld gray knight,
Lay o'er the castle wa,--
And says, "Alas! fair Janet, for thee,
But we'll be blamed a'!"--
"Haud your tongue, ye auld faced knight!
Some ill death may ye die;
Father my bairn on whom I will,
I'll father nane on thee."--
Out then spak her father dear,
And he spak meek and mild--
"And ever, alas! sweet Janet," he says,
"I think thou gaes with child."--
"And if I gae with child, father,
Mysel' maun bear the blame;
There's ne'er a laird about your ha'
Shall get the bairnie's name.
[Illustration: 0269]
"If my love were an earthly knight,
As he's an elfin grey,
I wadna gie my ain true love
For nae lord that ye hae.--
"The steed that my true love rides on,
Is lighter than the wind;
Wi' siller he is shod before,
Wi' burning gowd behind."
Janet has kilted her green kirtle,
A little aboon her knee,
And she has snooded her yellow hair,
A little aboon her bree.
And she's awa to Carterhaugh,
As fast as she can hie.
And when she came to Carterhaugh,
Tam Lin was at the well;
And there she found his steed standing,
But away was himsel'.
[Illustration: 0270]
She hadna pu'd a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till up then started young Tam Lin,
Says--"Lady, thou pu's nae mae!
"Why pu' ye the rose, Janet,
Amang the groves sae green,
And a' to kill the bonny babe,
That we gat us between?"
"O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin," she says,
"For's sake that died on tree,
If e'er ye was in holy chapel,
Or Christendom did see?"--
["The truth I'll tell to thee, Janet,
A word I winna lie;
A knight me got, and a lady me bore,
As well as they did thee.]
"Roxburgh, he was my grandfather,
Took me with him to bide,
And ance it fell upon a day
That wae did me betide.
And ance it fell upon a day,
A cauld day and a snell,
That we were frae the hunting come,
That frae my horse I fell -,
The Queen of Fairies she caught me,
In yon green hill to dwell;
"And pleasant is the fairy land, Janet,
But, an eerie tale to tell,
Aye, at the end of seven years,
We pay a teind to hell;
And I am sae fair and fu o' flesh,
I fear 'twill be mysel'.
(_snell_, keen. _teind_, tithe.)
"But the night is Hallowe'en, lady,
The morn is Hallowday;
Then win me, win me, an ye will,
For well I wot ye may.
"Just at the mirk and midnight hour
The fairy folk will ride;
And they that wad their true-love win,
At Miles Cross they maun bide."
"But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin?
Or how my true love knaw,
Amang so many unco knights,
The like I never saw?"
"O first let pass the black, lady,
And syne let pass the brown;
But quickly run to the milk-white steed,
Pu' ye his rider down.
"For I'll ride on the milk-white steed,
And ay nearest the town;
Because I was an earthly knight,
They gie me that renown.
"My right hand will be gloved, lady,
My left hand will be bare;
Cocked up shall my bonnet be,
And kaimed down shall my hair,
And thae's the tokens I gie thee,
Nae doubt I will be there.
(_unco_, strange.)
"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,
Into an esk and adder;
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I am your bairn's father.
"They'll turn me to a bear sae grim,
And then a lion bold;
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
As ye shall love your child.
"Again they'll turn me in your arms,
To a red-hot gaud of airn;
But haud me fast, and fear me not,
I'll do to you nae harm.
"And last they'll turn me in your arms
Into the burning gleed;
Then throw me into will-water,
O throw me in wi' speed.
"And then I'll be your ain true-love,
I'll turn a naked knight;
Then cover me wi' your green mantle,
And cover me out o' sight."
Gloomy, gloomy, was the night,
And eerie was the way,
As fair Jenny, in her green mantle,
To Miles Cross she did gae.
(_esk_, newt. _gaud of airn_, bar of iron. _gleed,_coal.)
About the midle o' the night,
She heard the bridles ring;
This lady was as glad at that
As any earthly thing.
[Illustration: 0274]
First she let the black pass by,
And syne she let the brown;
But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed,
And pu'd the rider down.
Sae weel she minded what he did say,
And young Tam Lin did win;
Syne covered him wi' her green mantle,
As blithe's a bird in spring.
Out then spake the Queen o' Fairies,
Out of a bush o' broom--
"Them that has gotten young Tam Lin,
Has gotten a stately groom."--
Out then spake the Queen o' Fairies,
And an angry women was she,
"Shame betide her ill-fared face,
And an ill death may she die,
For she's taen awa' the bonniest knight
In a my company.
"But had I kenn'd, Tam Lin," she says,
"What now this night I see,
I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een,
Put in twa een o' tree."
(_tree_, wood.)
THE BROOMFIELD HILL
|There was a knight and a lady bright,
Had a true tryst at the broom;
The ane gaed early in the morning,
The other in the afternoon.
And aye she sat in her mothers bower door,
And aye she made her mane,
"O whether should I gang to the Broomfield hill,
Or should I stay at hame?
"For if I gang to the Broomfield hill,
My maidenhead is gone;
And if I chance to stay at hame,
My love will ca' me mansworn."--
Up then spake a witch-woman,
Ay from the room aboon;
"O, ye may gang to Broomfield hill,
And yet come maiden hame.
"For when ye come to the Broomfield hill,
Yell find your love asleep,
With a silver belt about his head,
And a broom-cow at his feet.
(_mansworn_, perjured. _broom-cow_, bush of broom.)
"Take ye the blossom of the broom,
The blossom it smells sweet,
And strew it at your true love's head,
And likewise at his feet.
"Take ye the rings off your fingers,
Put them on his right hand,
To let him know, when he doth awake,
His love was at his command."--
She pu'd the broom flower on Hive-hill,
And strew'd on's white hals-bane,
And that was to be wittering true,
That maiden she had gane.
"O where were ye, my milk-white steed,
That I hae coft sae dear,
That wadna watch and waken me,
When there was maiden here?"--
"I stamped wi' my foot, master,
And gar'd my bridle ring -,
But nae kin thing wad waken ye,
Till she was past and gane."--
"And wae betide ye, my gay gosshawk,
That I did love sae dear,
That wadna watch and waken me,
When there was maiden here."--
(_hals_ neck. _wittering_, witness.
_coft_, bought. _gar'd,_ made. _kin_ kind of.)
"I clapped wi' my wings, master,
And aye my bells I rang,
And aye cry'd, Waken, waken, master,
Before the lady gang."--
"But haste and haste, my gude white steed,
To come the maiden till,
Or a' the birds of gude green wood
Of your flesh shall have their fill."--
"Ye needna burst your gude white steed,
Wi' racing oer the howm;
Nae bird flies faster through the wood,
Than she fled through the broom."
Young Johnstone
|Young Johnstone and the young Col'nel
Sat drinking at the wine:
"O gin ye wad marry my sister,
It's I wad marry thine."
"I wadna marry your sister,
For a' your houses and land;
But I'll keep her for my leman,
When I come o'er the strand.
(_howm_, flats.)
"I wadna marry your sister,
For a' your gowd so gay;
But I'll keep her for my leman,
When I come by the way."
Young Johnstone had a little small sword,
Hung low down by his gair,
And he stabbed it through the young Col'nel
That word he ne'er spak mair.
But he's awa' to his sister's bower,
He's tirled at the pin:
"Where hae ye been, my dear brither,
Sae late a coming in?"
"I hae been at the school, sister,
Learning young clerks to sing."
"I've dreamed a dreary dream this night,
I wish it may be for good;
They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,
And the young Col'nel was dead."
"Hawks and hounds they may seek me,
As I trow well they be;
For I have killed the young Col'nel,
And thy own true love was he."
(_gair_, skirt.)
'If ye hae killed the young Col'nel,
O dule and wae is me;
But I wish ye may be hanged on a high gallows,
And hae nae power to flee."
And he's awa' to his true love's bower,
He's tirled at the pin:
"Where hae ye been, my dear Johnstone,
Sae late a coming in?"
"It's I hae been at the school," he says,
"Learning young clerks to sing."
"I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says,
"I wish it may be for good;
They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,
And the young Col'nel was dead."
"Hawks and hounds they may seek me,
As I trow well they be;
For I hae killed the young Col'nel,
And thy ae brother was he."
"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel,
O dule and wae is me;
But I care the less for the young Col'nel,
If thy ain body be free.
"Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone,
Come in and take a sleep;
And I will go to my casement,
And carefully I will thee keep."
(_dule,_ sad.)
He had not weel been in her bower-door,
No not for half an hour,
When four-and-twenty belted knights
Came riding to the bower.
"Well may you sit and see, Lady,
Well may you sit and say;
Did you not see a bloody squire
Come riding by this way?"
"What colour were his hawks?" she says,
"What colour were his hounds?
What colour was the gallant steed
That bore him from the bounds!"
"Bloody, bloody were his hawks,
And bloody were his hounds;
But milk-white was the gallant steed
That bore him from the bounds."
"Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks,
And bloody were his hounds;
And milk-white was the gallant steed
That bore him from the bounds.
"Light down, light down now, gentlemen,
And take some bread and wine;
An the steed be swift that he rides on,
He's past the brig o' Lyne."
(_An,_ if.)
"We thank you for your bread, fair Lady,
We thank you for your wine;
But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound,
That bloody knight was ta en."
"Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone,
Lie still and take a sleep;
For thy enemies are past and gone,
And carefully I will thee keep."
But young Johnstone had a little wee sword,
Hung low down by his gair,
And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast,
A deep wound and a sair.
"What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone?
What aileth thee at me?
Hast thou not got my father's gold,
But and my mither's fee?"
"Now live, now live, my dear Lady,
Now live but half an hour,
And there's no a leech in a' Scotland
But what shall be in thy bower."
"How can I live, how shall I live?
Young Johnstone, do not you see
The red, red drops o' my bonny heart's blood
Rin trinkling down my knee?
(_trinkling_, trickling.)
"But take thy harp into thy hand,
And harp out ower yon plain,
And ne'er think mair on thy true love
Than if she had never been."
He hadna weel been out o' the stable,
And on his saddle set,
Till four-and-twenty broad arrows
Were thrilling in his heart.
JOCK O' THE SIDE
|Now Liddesdale has ridden a raid,
But I wot they had better stayed at hame;
For Mitchell o' Winfield he is dead,
And my son Johnnie is prisoner tane.
With my fa ding diddle, la la low diddle.
For Mangerton-House Auld Downie is gane,
Her coats she has kilted up to her knee;
And down the water wi' speed she rins,
While tears in spates fa fast frae her eye.
(_spates_, torrents.)
Then up and bespake the Lord Mangerton,
"What news, what news, sister Downie, to me?"
"Bad news, bad news, my Lord Mangerton'
Mitchell is kill'd, and tane they hae my son Johnnie."
"Ne'er fear, sister Downie," quo* Mangerton;
"I hae yokes of oxen, four and twenty;
My barns, my byres, and my faulds, a' weel fill'd,
And I'll part wi' them a', ere Johnnie shall die.
"Three men I'll take to set him free,
Weel harness'd a' wi' best o' steel;
The English rogues may hear, and dree
The weight o' their braid-swords to feel.
"The Laird's Jock ane, the Laird's Wat twa,
O Hobie Noble, thou ane maun be;
Thy coat is blue, thou hast been true,
Since England banish'd thee, to me."
Now Hobie was an English man,
In Bewcastle-dale was bred and born;
But his misdeeds they were sae great,
They banish'd him ne'er to return.
Lord Mangerton them orders gave,
"Your horses the wrang way maun a' be shod;
Like gentlemen ye must not seem,
But look like corn-caugers gawn ae road.
(_byres_, cow-houses. _dree_, suffer. _caugers_, carriers or dealers.)
"Your armour gude ye maunna show,
Nor ance appear like men o' weir;
As country lads be all array'd,
Wi' branks and brecham on ilk mare."
Sae now a' their horses are shod the wrang way,
And Hobie has mounted his grey sae fine;
Jock his lively bay, Wat's on his white horse behind,
And on they rode for the water o' Tyne.
At the Choler-ford they a' light down,
And there, wi' the help o' the light o' the moon,
A tree they cut, wi' fifteen nags upo' ilk side,
To climb up the wa' o' Newcastle town.
But when they came to Newcastle town,
And were alighted at the wa',
They found their tree three ells o'er laigh,
They found their stick baith short and sma.
Then up and spake the Laird's ain Jock,
"There's naething for't, the gates we maun force;"
But when they came the gates unto,
A proud porter withstood baith men and horse.
(_weir_, war. _branks_, rope bridles. _brecham_, collar.
_tree_, pole. _nags_, notches. _laigh_, low.)
His neck in twa I wot they hae wrung,
Wi' hand or foot he ne'er play'd paw;
His life and his keys at ance they hae tane,
And cast his body ahind the wa'.
Now soon they reach Newcastle jail,
And to the pris ner thus they call;
"Sleeps thou, wakes thou, Jock o' the side,
Or is thou wearied o' thy thrall?"
Jock answers thus, wi' dolefu' tone--
"Aft, aft I wake--I seldom sleep:
But wha's this kens my name sae weel,
And thus to hear my waes does seek?"
Then up spake the good Lairds Jock,
"Neer fear ye now, my billy," quo' he;
"For here's the Laird's Jock, the Laird's Wat,
And Hobie Noble, come to set thee free."
"O hald thy tongue, and speak nae mair,
And o' thy talk now let me be;
For if a' Liddisdale were here the night,
The morn's the day that I maun die.
"Full fifteen stane o' Spanish iron,
They hae laid a' right sair on me;
Wi' locks and keys I am fast bound
Into this dungeon mirk and dreary."
(_ne'er played paw_, never stirred.)
"Fear ye no that," quo' the Laird's Jock -,
"A faint heart ne'er won a fair lady;
Work thou within, well work without,
And I'll be bound we set thee free."
The first strong door that they came at,
They loosed it without a key;
The next chained door that they came at,
They gar'd it a' in flinders flee.
The pris'ner now, upo' his back,
The Laird's Jock's gotten up fu' high;
And down the stair, him, irons and a',
Wi' nae sma' speed and joy brings he.
"Now, Jock, I wot," quo' Hobie Noble,
"Part o' the weight ye may lay on me;"
"I wot weel no!" quo' the Laird's Jock,
"I count him lighter than a flea."
Sae out at the gates they a' are gane,
The pris'ner's set on horseback high;
And now wi' speed they've tane the gate,
While ilk ane jokes fu' wantonly.
"O Jock, sae winsomely's ye ride,
Wi' baith your feet upo' ae side!
Sae weel's ye're harness'd, and sae trig,
In troth, ye sit like ony bride!"
(_gar'd_, made. _flinders_, splinters. _trig_, trim.)
The night, thou wot, they didna mind,
But hied them on fu' merrily,
Until they came to Choler-ford brae,
Where the water ran like mountains high.
But when they came to Choler-ford,
There they met with an auld man;
Says--"Honest man, will the water ride?
Tell us in haste, if that ye can."
"I wot weel no," quo' the good old man;
"Here I hae lived this thirty years and three,
And I ne'er yet saw the Tyne sae big,
Nor rinnin' ance sae like a sea."
Then up and spake the Laird's saft Wat,
The greatest coward in the company--
"Now halt, now halt, we needna try't;
The day is com'd we a' maun die!"
"Poor faint-hearted thief!" quo' the Laird's ain Jock,
"There'll nae man die but he that's fie;
I'll lead ye a' right safely through;
Lift ye the pris'ner on ahint me."
Sae now the water they a' hae tane,
By anes and twas they a' swam through;
"Here are we a' safe," says the Laird's Jock,
"And, poor faint Wat, what think ye now?"
(_fie_, predestined.)
They scarce the ither side had won,
When twenty men they saw pursue;
Frae Newcastle town they had been sent,
A' English lads, right good and true.
But when the land-sergeant the water saw,
"It winna ride, my lads," quo' he;
Then out he cries--"Ye the pris'ner may take,
But leave the irons, I pray, to me."
"I wot weel no," cry'd the Lairds Jock,
"I'll keep them a'; shoon to my mare they'll be:
My good grey mare--for I am sure,
She's bought them a fu' dear frae thee."
Sae now they're away for Liddisdale,
E'en as fast as they could them hie;
The pris'ner's brought to his ain fire-side,
And there o's airns they make him free.
"Now, Jock, my billy," quo' a' the three,
"The day was com'd thou was to die;
But thou's as weel at thy ain fire-side,
Now sitting, I think, 'tween thee and me."
They hae gar'd fill up ae punch-bowl,
And after it they maun hae anither,
And thus the night they a' hae spent,
Just as they had been brither and brither.
(_airns,_ irons.)
THERE WAS A MAID CAME OUT OF KENT
|There was a maid came out of Kent,
Dainty love, dainty love;
There was a maid came out of Kent,
Dangerous be:
There was a maid came out of Kent,
Fair, proper, small and gent,
As ever upon the ground went,
For so it should be.
The Fire of Frendraught
The reek it rose, and the flame it flew,
And oh the fire augmented high,
Until it came to Lord John's chamber-window
And to the bed where Lord John lay.
"O help me, help me, Lady Frennet!
I never ettled harm to thee;
And if my father slew thy lord,
Forget the deed and rescue me."
(_reek_, smoke. _ettled_, designed.)
He looked east, he looked west,
To see if any help was nigh;
At length his little page he saw,
Who to his lord aloud did cry.
"Loup down, loup down, my master dear!
What though the window's dreigh and high?
I'll catch you in my arms twa,
And never a foot from you I'll flee."
"How can I loup, you little page,
How can I leave this window high?
Do you not see the blazing low,
And my twa legs burnt to my knee?"
(_dreigh_, high. _low_, flame.)
[Illustration: 0291]
[Illustration: 0292]
ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND BURIAL
|When Robin Hood and Little John,
_Down a down, a down, a down._
Went o'er yon bank of broom,
Said Robin Hood to Little John,
"We have shot for many a pound:
_Hey down, a down, a down._
"But I am not able to shoot one shot more,
My arrows will not flee;
But I have a cousin lives down below,
Please God, she will bleed me."
Now Robin is to fair Kirkley gone,
As fast as he can win;
But before he came there, as we do hear,
He was taken very ill.
And when that he came to fair Kirkley-hall,
He knock'd all at the ring,
But none was so ready as his cousin herself
For to let bold Robin in.
"Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin," she said,
"And drink some beer with me?"
"No, I will neither eat nor drink,
Till I am blooded by thee."
"Well, I have a room, cousin Robin," she said,
"Which you did never see,
And if you please to walk therein,
You blooded by me shall be."
She took him by the lily-white hand,
And led him to a private room,
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood,
Whilst one drop of blood would run.
She blooded him in the vein of the arm,
And lock'd him up in the room;
There did he bleed all the live-long day,
Until the next day at noon.
He then bethought him of a casement door,
Thinking for to be gone;
He was so weak he could not leap,
Nor he could not get down.
He then bethought him of his bugle-horn,
Which hung low down to his knee;
He set his horn unto his mouth,
And blew out weak blasts three.
Then Little John, when hearing him,
As he sat under the tree,
"I fear my master is near dead,
He blows so wearily."
Then Little John to fair Kirkley is gone,
As fast as he can dri'e;
But when he came to Kirkley-hall,
He broke locks two or three:
Until he came bold Robin to,
Then he fell on his knee;
"A boon, a boon," cries Little John,
"Master, I beg of thee."
(_dri'e_, drive.)
[Illustration: 0295]
"What is that boon," quoth Robin Hood,
"Little John, thou begs of me?" '
"It is to burn fair Kirkley-hall,
And all their nunnery."
"Now nay, now nay," quoth Robin Hood,
"That boon I'll not grant thee;
I never hurt woman in all my life,
Nor man in woman's company.
"I never hurt fair maid in all my time,
Nor at my end shall it be;
But give me my bent bow in my hand,
And a broad arrow 111 let flee;
And where this arrow is taken up,
There shall my grave digg'd be.
"Lay me a green sod under my head,
And another at my feet;
And lay my bent bow by my side,
Which was my music sweet;
And make my grave of gravel and green,
Which is most right and meet.
"Let me have length and breadth enough,
With under my head a green sod;
That they may say, when I am dead,
Here lies bold Robin Hood."
These words they readily promis'd him,
Which did bold Robin please:
And there they buried bold Robin Hood,
Near to the fair Kirklèys.
[Illustration: 0297]