28 32 36 40 44 48 52 56 'And quhatten penance wul ye drie for that, Edward, Edward? And quhatten penance wul ye drie for that? My deir son, now tell me, O.' 'I'le set my feit in yonder boat. I'le set my feit in yonder boat, Mither, mither, 'And quhat wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha', 'I'le let thame stand tul they doun fa', Mither, mither, I'le let thame stand tul they doun fa', 'And quhat wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, "The warldis room, late them beg thrae life, Mither, mither, 'And quhat wul ye leive to your ain mither deir, Edward, Edward? 'The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir, Mither, mither, The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir, 4 8 THE GAY GOSHAWK. [From Sir Walter Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border II 7 (1802)] 'O waly, waly, my gay goshawk, Gin your feathering be sheen!' 'And waly, waly, my master dear, Gin ye look pale and lean! 'O have ye tint at tournament Your sword, or yet your spear? Or mourn ye for the southern lass, Whom you may not win near?' 20 24 28 82 86 40 'But how sall I your true-love find, | Or how suld I her know? I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spake, 'O weel sall ye my true-love ken, Sae sune as ye her see, For of a' the flowers of fair England, The fairest flower is she. 'The red that's on my true-love's cheek Is like blood-drops on the snaw; The white that is on her breast bare Like the down o'the white sea-maw. 'And even at my love's bower-door There grows a flowering birk, And ye maun sit and sing thereon, As she gangs to the kirk. 'And four-and-twenty fair ladies The fairest lady there.' Lord William has written a love-letter, Put it under his pinion gray, And he is awa to southern land, As fast as wings can gae. And even at that lady's bower There grew a flowering birk, And he sat down and sang thereon, 44 As she gaed to the kirk. And weel he kent that lady fair Amang her maidens free, For the flower that springs in May morning 48 Was not sae sweet as she. 'Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird, The sang ye sung yestreen; For weel I ken by your sweet singing Ye are frae my true-love sen'.' O first he sang a merry sang, 'Have there a letter from Lord William; 'Gae bid him bake his bridal bread, The lady's gane to her chamber, And a moanfu' woman was she, As gin she had taen a sudden brash, And were about to die. 'A boon, a boon, my father dear, A boon I beg of thee!' 'Ask not that paughty Scottish lord, For him you ne'er shall see. 'But, for your honest asking else, Weel granted it shall be:' Then, gin I die in southern land, In Scotland gar bury me. 'And the first kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the mass be sung, And the next kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the bells be rung. 'And when ye come to St. Mary's kirk, She has taen her to her bigly bower, Adaplen, pale grew her rosy cheek, | That was sae bright of blee, And she seemed to be as surely dead 100 As any one could be. 104 106 112 116 20 8 But when they came to St. Mary's kirk, There stood spearmen all on raw, And up and started Lord William, The chieftain amang them a'. They drapt a drap o' the burning red 'Set down, set down the bier', he said, 'Let me look her upon:' But as soon as Lord William touched her hand, Her colour began to come. She brightened like the lily-flower, Till her pale colour was gone; With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, She smiled her love upon. 'A morsel of your bread, my lord, And one glass of your wine, For I hae fasted these three lang days, All for your sake and mine. 'Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers, Gae hame and blow your horn; I trow you wad hae gien me the skaith, But I've gien you the scorn.' 'Ah woe to you, you light woman, An ill death may you die! For we left father and mother at hame Breaking their hearts for thee.' THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL There lived a wife at Usher's Well, The hadna been a week from her, I wish the wind may never cease, It fell about the Martinmas, When nights are lang and mirk, The carline wife's three sons came hame, And their hats were o'the birk. They hadna been a week from her, It neither grew in sike nor ditch, A week but barely three, When word came to the carline wife 12 That her sons she'd never see. Nor yet in ony sheugh; But at the gates of Paradise, That birk grew fair enough. 124 128 132 136 140 144 16 20 24 28 32 36 8 12 16 20 24 [From Jamieson's Popular Ballads II 7 (1806), and Scott's Minstrelsy II 251] True Thomas lay on Huntly bank, Come riding down by the Eildon Tree Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, Her mantle of the velvet fine, At ilka tett of her horse's mane Hung fifty silver bells and nine. True Thomas he took off his hat, And bowed him low down till his knee: 'All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven! For your peer on earth I never did see.' 'O no, O no, True Thomas,' she says, "That name does not belong to me; I am but the queen of fair Elfland, And I'm come here for to visit thee. 'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she says, 'Harp and carp along wi' me, And if ye dare to kiss my lips, Sure of your body I will be.' 'Betide me weal, betide me woe, That weird shall never daunton me.' Syne he has kissed her rosy lips, All underneath the Eildon Tree. 40 44 48 'But ye maun go wi' me now, Thomas, True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me, For ye maun serve me seven years, Thro' weel or wae as may chance 28 to be.' 8 12 KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR-MAID. I read that once in Africa As poets they did feign: But did them all disdain. The which did cause his pain. The blinded boy, that shoots so trim, Which soon did pierce him to the quick, Then from the window he did come, A thousand heaps of care did run And not this beggar wed. Or else he would be dead. And, as he musing thus did lie, He thought for to devise That so did 'maze his eyes. The Gods shall sure suffice.' 28 32 36 40 44 48 |