Chapter XXII: Part III: , p. 24, Part IV, p. xxxi, taken down from James Olver, (9)

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.’

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.

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 nicht
When ye were in the yowe-buchts wi me?’

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 lass
In a’ the North Countrie.’

219. The Gardener.

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).

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

* * * * *

Five Excellent New Songs. II. The New Lover’s Garland. III. The Young Maid’s Answer.

5^1 _should read_, If thou’lt ... he said.

5^2 _should read nearly as in_ =B= 8^3, Among all.

6^4, 10^4. next _should be_ neist.

7^1. grove.

7^{1,2}, 8^{1,2}, _make a stanza_.

_After_ 8: The Young Maid’s Answer, _printed as No 3 of the five songs_.

9^1. to be a.

9^{3,4} _could be easily corrected_ from =A= 7^{5,6}, =B= 15^{3,4}.

11^1. stangle.

11^2 _should 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.

Dead Maid’s Land.

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.

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.

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.

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 rose
That flowereth in June.’

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 thorn
That pricketh to the heart;’
‘O but I will have the red, red rose,
For I little heed its smart.’

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

* * * * *

2^2. braw _altered to_ better.

221. Katharine Jaffray.

P. 222. =E=, as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 17, ‘Bony Catrain Jaffry.’

1
Bonny Catrain Jaffrie,
That proper maid sae fare,
She has loved yong Lochinwar,
She made him no compare.

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.

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.

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.

6
His father an his mother came,
. . . . . . .
They came a’, but he came no,
It was a foull play.

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-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.’

10
He got fifty young men,
They were gallant an gay,
An fifty madens,
An left them on a lay.

11
Fan he came in by Callien bank,
An in by Calline bray,
He left his company
Dancing on a lay.

12
He came to the bridel-house,
An in entred he;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

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.’

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.’

17
The glass was filled of gued read wine
Betuen them tua:
‘Wan word we yer brid,
An so I goo my waa.’

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.’

20
Bat nou she is Lochenw[ar]’s wife,
. . . . . . . .
An he gaed them froges insted of fish,
An tain ther bried away.

* * * * *

1. him _imperfect; might be_ hir.

5^2. 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. 1^1. O _wanting_: Jaffray.

1^3. For she has lovd young L.

3^{1,2}. Lauderdale’s come.

3^3. That pretty.

4^3. He agreed with.

5^3. lossing of the.

6^1. were you, L.

7^1. Ye get.

7^2. And send through.

7^3. Get 150.

7^4. be all.

8^3. And still: trumpets.

9^2. And sent.

9^3. Gat full.

9^4. To be all.

10^1. To be.

10^2. to obey.

10^3. And still: trumpets.

11^3. When he went in upon.

12^2. who was.

12^3. Come never.

13^1. They’ll.

14^3. Askd if he had.

15^1. ever.

15^2. As was.

15^4. Was.

16^3. I did.

16^4. Was leaping on the hays.

17^3. with you, =b=.

17^4, 18^4. bound.

18^2. drank.

19^1. taken.

19^4, 20^4. no.

20^1. so great.

20^2. And so.

20^3. That.

21^1. take their.

21^3. trumpets.

22^1. There was.

22^2. Was walking on a hay.

22^3. Gave them the bonny bride by the hand.

22^4. bad them bound.

23^1. pieces nine.

Scott. 15^2. array _miscopied_ away.

222. Bonny Baby Livington.

P. 231. ‘Bonnie Annie Livieston’ in C. K. Sharpe’s first MS. collection, p. 24, resembles =D= and =B=, and has as many commonplaces as =B=, ending with the last three stanzas of several versions of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Annet’ or of ‘Lord Lovel,’ =I=.

1
Bonny Anny Livieston
Went out to see the play,
By came the laird of Glenlion,
And [he’s] 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.

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.

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.

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 Glenlion
Soon wadded shall ye be.’

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.’

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 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?’

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.

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.

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.’

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 steed
That eer took man to towen.’

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!

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.

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.’

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.

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.

* * * * *

17^3. hinderen.

21^1. thy thy.

223. Eppie Morrie.

P. 239. Collated with a MS. of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe’s, and with another copy of the same pieces, “North Country Ballads,” in Miscellanea Curiosa, Abbotsford Library.

Sharpe, p. 21.

1^2. all.

1^3. away.

1^4. Because.

2^1. Out it.

2^2. moonlighty.

3^{1,2}. Hald.

3^4. That shall be wedded.

5^1. He has.

5^2. it _wanting_.

5^3. Says, Marry.

6^{1,2}, 7^{1,2}, 10^{1,2}, 15^{1,2}. Hold.

6^4. be married.

7^3. dare not avow to marrying.

7^4. she were.

8^2. could not.

8^3. are away.

9^1. bells was.

9^2. all men bound.

10^{1,2}, 15^{1,2}. away from.

10^3. I loss.

12^3. Scallater.

13^1. Says, Get.

13^4. sure I am: as ye.

14^1. fall.

14^2. you could not.

14^3. taken.

14^4. kis[s]ed your hand.

15^3. For there’s.

15^4. that’s be wedded to me.

16^1. in it came Belbardlane.

16^3. Says, come away home.

17^2. And get to me.

17^4. came.

18^2. and hey the light.

_Written in long lines, without division into stanzas._

Scott. Norrie _throughout_.

2^2. moonlight.

16^3. home _wanting_.

225. Rob Roy.

P. 245. =A.= This version is No 9 of “The Old Lady’s Collection,” and was copied by Skene without much variation. The following original readings may be noted.

2^3. Or she.

3^1. serundad.

3^4. fra each other.

6^4. to me has.

7^4. Him sell beside her.

8^1. came by Black.

8^4. not be.

10^{1,2}. Be content _twice only_.

11^2, 12^2. lady _wanting_.

12^1. land.

12^2. for his.

12^3. An _wanting_.

12^4. took them.

13^1. he _wanting_.

13^3. pound.

14^1. Y’er.

249. =E.= In Sharpe’s small MS. volume, “Songs,” p. 42.

1^2. Cam to.

2^1. It’s when.

2^4. her to.

5^3. hasted.

7^3. cries _for_ sighs.

7^4. was laid behind.

8^1. He says to her, etc., Oh, be.

_Readings from_ =A= 1, 2, _are added, in a later hand, in the margin of_ 1, 3.

254.

L

From a copy formerly in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, now belonging to Mr Macmath. The paper on which it is written has the water-mark 1822. This version closely resembles =C= and =K=.

1
Rob Roy’s from the Highlands come
Down to the Lowland border,
And there he’s stole a fair lady away,
To keep his house in order.

2
As he came in by Blackhill gate,
Twenty men his arms did carry,
And he has stole a fair lady away,
On purpose hir to marry.

3
No tidings came unto the house,
Nor none went in before him,
Or else she had been run away,
For she did still abhor him.

4
But with his men he surunded the house,
Himself went in unto hir,
And when that he had found her out
He profest how much he lovt hir.

5
‘O wilt thou be my dear?’ he says,
‘O wilt thou be my hony?
O wilt thou be my wedded wife?
For I love you far better than ony.’

6
‘I will not be your dear,’ she says,
‘I will not be your honey,
I will not be your wedded wife;
You love me for my money.’

7
But he hir drew amongst his crew,
She holding by hir mother;
With doleful cries and watry eyes
The parted from each other.

8
He gave hir no time for to dress
As brides do when the marry,
But fast he hurried hir away,
And rowd hir in his plaidy.

9
He set hir on a milk-white steed,
Himself lept on behind hir,
And he has carried hir away,
Hir friends the could not find hir.

10
The lady’s cries were oftimes heard,
But none durst venture to hir;
She gaurded was on every side,
Hir friends could not rescue hir.

11
As the went over hills and rocks,
The lady oftimes fainted;
Cries, Wo be to my curst mony,
These roads to me invented.

12
As the came in by Drummond town
And at Bachannan tarried,
He bought to her a cloak and gown,
Yet wad she not be married.

13
And when she came the priest before
He askd if she would marry,
But the parson’s zeal it was so hot
For her will he did not tarry.

14
Four held hir up before the priest,
Tow laid hir in hir bed, O,
But still she cried, with watry eyes,
When she was by him laid O.

15
‘Now you’r to the Highlands come,
Out of your native clime, lady,
Never think of going back,
But tak it for your hame, lady.

16
‘Be content, be content,
Be content to stay, lady,
Now you are my wedded wife,
Until your dying day, lady.

17
‘Rob Roy was my father calld,
McGregor was his name, lady,
And all the country where he dwelt
None could exceed his fame, lady.

18
‘I’ll be kind, I’ll be kind,
I’ll be kind to thee, lady,
A’ thy kindred for thy sake
Shall truly favoured be, lady.

19
‘My father reignd as Highland king,
And ruled at his will, lady,
There was nether lord nor duke
Durst do him ony ill, lady.

20
‘Ay through time, ay through time,
Ay through time was he, lady,
Filled was w[ith] sweet revenge
On a’ his enemys, lady.

21
‘He was a hedge about his friends,
A heckle till his foes, lady,
And every ane that did him rang,
He took them oer the nose, lady.

22
‘I’m as bold, I’m as bold,
[As bold] as forest boar, lady,
Every ane that does thee rang
Shall feell my stell claymore, lady.

23
‘Neer a man from Highlands came
That ever did him dare, lady,
But if those persons did escape
He sized upon there gear, lady.
Ay through time, etc.

24
‘My father dealt in horse and cows,
But thou in goats and sheep, lady,
Thre and twenty thousand merk
Makes me a man complete, lady.
Be content, etc.

25
‘Of all the exploits my father did
I do him now outshine, lady;
He never took a prize in ’s life
With sic a face as thine, lady.’

* * * * *

_Title_: Old Song, Rob Roy. Tune, Jonny Fa, the Gipsy Laddy.

_After_ 14. Tune, Had away frae me, Donald.

Here may be added, as an appendix, a fragment of a ballad on the “Abduction of Nelly Symon.” “The chorus is in Gaelic and the song is sung to one of the finest native airs.” From The Aberdeen Herald and Weekly Free Press, February 3, 1883.

1
They hoised her up upon a mare;
It was not for her gowd nor gear;
’T was for her beauty, keen and rare,
That they stealt Ellen Symon.
Se ho or so gur tallum tallum,
Se ho or so gur e so hallum;
Bheir mis ma chinteach ghuds gur tallum,
Chaileig, Eilie Symon.

2
Her father made a bow o bere,
Her uncle he gae twa pound mair,
To hang the rogue he vowed and sware
That stealt his Ellen Symon.

3
When they came on till Allanqooich,
They drank the whisky oot o a quaich,
And ilka are was blythe eneuch,
But wae was Ellen Symon.

4
When they came to the brig o Don,
Peter swore he would move on;
Says Charlie, Lad, ye sanna win,
For my brave Ellen Symon.

226. Lizie Lindsay.

P. 255.

H

From “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 39.

1
Ther lives a maid in Edinbrugh citty,
Elisa Lindsy they call her by name;
Monye an came to court her,
But a’ ther suit was in vain.

2
Out spak the hear of Carnussë,
An out spak he;
‘Fat wad ye think of me if I wad gae to Edinbrugh citty
An bring this fair creatur we me?’

3
‘If ye gae to Edinbrugh city
An bring this fair creatur we the,
Bring her home we ne flatry,
But by grait policy.’

4
Fan he came to the Netherbou,
Elisa Lindsy for to see,
She drank we him a bottel of cherry,
And bare him gued company.

5
‘Will ye goo to the Hillands we me, Lisee?
Will ye go to [the] Hillands we me?
. . . . . . . .
Ye’s gett cruds an grean why.’

6
Out spak Lissy’s mother,
An out spak she;
‘If ye say so to my daughter,
[I] swaer I ell gar ye die.’

7
‘Keep well yer dother, old lady,
Keep well yer dother fra me,
For I care as littel for yer dother
As she dos for me.’

8
Out spak Lissie Lindsy,
We the tear in her eay;
‘I will gie ye ten gunies,
If ye wad bat sitt in my roum bat a whill
Till I dra you[r] picter,
To mind me on your swit smill.’

9
‘I care as littel for your ten gunies
As ye dou for mine,
But if ye love my person,
Goo we me if ye inclayn.’

10
Fan they came to Carnusie, an even to the glen,
Out came the old day:
‘Ye’r welcom home, Sir Donall, ye’r welcom home,
An that fair creatur ye we.’

11
‘Caa na me mare Sir Donald,
Bat caa me Donall, yer son,
An I’ll caa ye my mother,
An caa me Donall, yer son:’
The words wer spoken in Ears,
Lissie she had nean.

12
‘Gett us a supper of cruds,
[A supper of cruds] an green whay,
An a bed of the best of yeer rushes,
Besids a covering of gray.’

13
Lissy Lindsy bieng weary,
She lay over long in they day:
‘Win up, Lissy Lindsy,
Ye haa layen our lang in the day;
Ye might haa ben out we my mider,
Milken the eus an the kay.’

14
Out spak Lissie Lindsy,
The tear in her eay;
‘I wiss I wer in Edenbrugh citty,
I cannë milk eus nor kay.’

15
‘Hold your toung, Lissie Lindsy,
An dou not freat on me,
For I will haa ye back to Edenbrugh citty,
Nou we grait safity.’

16
Out spak Lissie Lindsy,
The tear in her eay;
‘If I wer in Edenbrugh citty,
They woud think littel of me.’

17
He touk her by the milk-white hand,
Some other forest to vue;
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .

18
Fan they came to Carnusy, out came Donal’s father,
A gay old knight was he;
Out cam Donald’s father,
An four-an-tuenty him we.

19
‘Ye’r welcom, Lissie Lends[y],
Dear welcom to me;
Ye’s be Lady Carnusie,
An gett Donal, my son.’

20
Out came Donald’s mother,
An four-an-tuenty her we:
‘Ye’r welcom, my son,
An that fair creatur ye we.’

* * * * *

17^2. Forest: _doubtful_.

227. Bonny Lizie Baillie.

P. 266. h. ‘Elisa Bailly,’ “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 37.

3
As I came in by Carron sid,
An in nou by Dumblain,
Ther I mett we Dugall Grame:
He said he wad see me hame.

4
‘My bonny Lisey Ballie,
I ill rou ye in my plady,
An ye wad gaa along we me,
I wad make ye a Heallend lady.’

5
‘If I wad gaa along we ye,
They wad say I wer na wise;
For I cane nether milk cou nor ewe,
Nor can I speak Ears.’

6
‘My bonny Lisie Bailly,
For that ye nead na fear;
For onye that I cane dou,
I ill learn to you, my dear.’

19, 21
‘Then I ill cast off my bra nou goun,
Made of the silk an saten,
An I ell pitt on the hame-made grays,
To skip among the breachan.’

‘My bonny Lisie Bailly,
I ill rou ye in my plaidy,
An ye will go along we me,
I ill make ye a Healand lady.’

20
‘Then I ell cast aff my bra nou shous,
Made of the Turky lader,
An I ell pit on the hame-made broges,
To skip among the header.’

‘My bonny Lisie Bailly,
I ell rou ye in my plady;
Since ye’r to goo along we me,
I ell make ye a Healend lady.’

16
Foull faa the logarheaded Loland lads
That lives near Castell Carey,
Has latten the bonny lass away
The Heallend lad to marry.

* * * * *

16^2. Carey _written so as to look like_ Carly.

228. Glasgow Peggie.

P. 271. =A= is extant among Sharpe’s relics, written on paper having 1819 in the water-mark, in two hands: stanzas 1-6, 8, 9^1, in one, 7 (inserted in the margin) and the rest in another. Sharpe has made a few slight changes in the text, besides regulating the spelling. The ballad is now given as it stands in the original copy.

1
‘As I cam in by boney Glassgow town,
The Highland troops were a’ before me,
And the bon[ey]est lass that ere I saw,
She lives in Glassgow, tha ca her Peggy.

2
‘I wad gie my boney black horse,
So wad I my good gray nagie,
If I were a hundred miles in the North,
And nan wee me but my boney Peggy.’

3
Up then spoke her father dear,
Dear vow! but he was wondrous sorey;
‘Weel may yea steel a cow or a ewe,
But ye darna steel my boney Peggy.’

4
Up then spoke her mother dear,
Dear vow! but she spoke wondrious sorey;
‘Now, since I’ve brought ye up this length,
Wod ye gang awa wee a Highland fellow?’

5
He set her on his boney black horse,
He set himsel on his good gray nagy;
They have riden over hill[s] and dales,
Now he is awa wee his boney Peggy.

6
They are riden or hills and dales,
They have riden or mountains maney,
Untill that thay com to a low, low glen,
And there he’s lain down wee his boney Peggy.

7
Up then spoke the Earll o Argyle,
Dear vow! bet he spoke wondrous sorry;
‘The bonniest lass in a’ Scotland
Is af an awa wi [a] Highland fellow!’

8
There bed was of the boney green grass,
There blankets was o the hay sa boney;
He falded his philabeg below her head,
Now he’s lawing down wee his boney Peggy.

9
Up then spoke the boney Lawland lass,
And oh, but she spoke wondrous sorry;
‘A’s warruant my mother would hae a gae soir heart
To see me lian here wi you, my Willie!’

10
‘In my father’s house there’s feather-beds,
Feather-beds an blankets many;
The’re a’ mine, an the’ll shoon be thine,
An what needs your mother be sae sorry, Peggie?

11
‘Dinna you see yon nine score o kye,
Feding on yon hill sae boney?
The’re a’ mine, an the’ll shoon be thine,
An what needs your mother be sorry, Peggie?

12
‘Dinna you see yon nine score o sheep,
Feeding on yon brae sae bonny?
The’re a’ mine, an the’ll shoon be thine,
An what needs your mother be sorry for you?

13
‘Dinna you see yon bonny white house,
Shining on yon brae sae bonny?
An I am the earl o the Isle o Sky,
And surely my Peggie will be calle[d] a lady.’

* * * * *

1^2, 2^3. where.

2^3. =a=: _not unlike_ 2, _but really_ =a=.

9^2. she sape.

9^3. soir: i _not dotted_.

10^3. be the thene.

275.

G

Macmath MS., p. 93. Taken down at Crossmichael, Kirkcudbrightshire, 24th August, 1892, from the recitation of Miss Jane Webster, who had learned it more than fifty years before, at Airds of Kells, from the singing of Rosanna McGinnies.

1
It was on a day, and a fine summer’s day,
When the Lowlands they were making ready,
There I espied a weel-far’d lass,
She was gaun to Glasgow, and they ca her Peggy.

2
It’s up then spak a silly auld man,
And O but he spak wondrous poorly!
Sayin, Ye may steal awa my cows and my ewes,
But ye’ll never steal awa my bonny Peggy.

3
‘O haud yer tongue, ye silly auld man,
For ye hae said eneugh already,
For I’ll never steal awa yer cows and yer ewes,
But I’ll steal awa yer bonny Peggy.’

4
So he mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himsel upon a wee grey naigie,
And they hae ridden ower hill and dale,
And over moors and mosses many.

5
They rade till they cam to the head o yon glen,
It might hae frightened anybody;
He said, Whether will ye go alongst with me,
Or will ye return back again to your mammie?

* * * * * * *

6
Their bed was o the green, green grass,
And their blankets o the bracken sae bonnie,
And he’s laid his trews beneath their head,
And Peggy’s lain doun wi her Heilan laddie.

7
They lay till it cam to the break o day,
Then up they rose and made them ready;
He said, Whether will ye go alongst with me,
Or will ye return back again to your mammie?

8
‘I’ll follow you through frost and snow,
I’ll follow you through dangers many,
And wherever ye go I will go alongst with you,
For I’ll never return back again to my mammie.’

9
‘I hae four-and-twenty gude milk-kye,
They’re a’ bun in yon byre sae bonny,
And I am the earl o the Isle o Skye,
And why should not Peggy be called a lady?

10
‘I hae fifty acres o gude land,
A’ ploughed ower and sawn sae bonny,
And I am young Donald o the Isle o Skye,
And wherever I’m laird I’ll make ye lady.’

231. The Earl of Errol.

P. 284. =B= as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 26.

1
Earell is a bonny place,
Itt stands upon yon plain;
The gratest faut about the toun,
Earell’s na a man.
For fat ye caa the danton o’tt,
According as ye ken,
For the pearting. .. .,
Lady Earel lays her lean.

2
Eearel is a bonny place,
It stans upon yon plain;
The rosses they grou read an whit,
An the apples they grou green.

3
‘Fatt nead I my apron wash
An hing upon yon pinn?
For lang will I gaa out an in
Or I hear my barn’s dinn.

4
‘Fatt nead I my apron wash,
Or hang upon yon dor?
For side an wid is my petecot,
An eaen doun afore.

5
‘Bat I will laice my stays agean,
My middel jump an smaa;
I ull gaa a’ my days a meaden,
Awaa, Earell, awaa!’

6
It fell ance upon a day Lord Earell
Went to hunt him lean,
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .

7
He was na a mill fra the toun,
Nor yett sae far awaa,
Till his lady is on to Edinbrugh,
To tray him att the laa.

8
Littel did Lord Earell think,
Fan he satt doun to dine,
That his lady was one to Edinbrugh,
Nor fatt was in her mind.

9
Till his best servant came
For to latt him kenn,
. . . . . .
. . . . . .

10
She was na in att the toun-end,
Nor yett sa far awa,
Till Earell he was att her back,
His goudy lokes to sha.

11
She was na in att the toun-head,
Nor just att the eand,
Till Earell he was att her back,
Her earent for to ken.

12
‘As lang as they caa ye Kett Carnegë,
An me Sir Gilbert Hay,
I us gar yer father sell Kinnerd,
Yer tougher for to pay.’

13
‘For to gar my father sell Kennerd,
It wad be a sin,
To gee’t to ony naughty knight
That a toucher canna wine.’

14
Out spak the first lord,
The best among them a’;
‘I never seed a lady come to Edinbrugh
We sick matters to the laue.’

15
Out spak the nixt lord,
The best of the toun;
‘Ye gett fiften weell-fared maids,
An pitt them in a roun,
An Earl in the midst of them,
An latt him chouss out ane.’

16
They ha gotten fiften well-fared maids,
An pat them in a roun,
An Earel in the mids of them,
An bad him chuse out ane.

17
He voued them a’ intell a rau,
Even up an doun,
An he has chossen a well-fared may,
An Meggie was her name.

18
He touk her by the hand,
Afore the nobles a’,
An tuenty times he kissed her moue,
An lead her throu the haa.

19
‘Louk up, Meggie, luke up, Meggie,
An thinkne sham[e];
As lang as ye see my goudy loks,
Lady Earel’s be yer name.’

20
Thir was fifteen nobelmen,
An as mony ladys gay,
To see Earel proven a man
. . . . . .

21
‘Ye tak this well-fared may,
An keep her three roun reaths of a year,
An even att the three raiths’ end
I ull draue near.’

22
They ha tane that well-fared may,
An kepeed her three roun reaths of a year,
An even att the three raiths’ end
Earel’s son she bare.

23
The gentelmen they ga a shout,
The ladys gaa a caa,
Fair mat faa him Errel,
But vou to his lady!

24
He was na in at the toun-head,
Nor just att the end,
Till the letters they wer metting him
That Errol had a son.

25
‘Luke up, Megie, luk up, Meggie,
An think na shame;
As lang as ye see my bra blak hat,
Lady Earrol’s be yer name.

26
‘I will gie my Meggie a mill,
Bat an a pice of land,
. . . . . .
To foster my young son.

27
‘Fare is a’ my merry men a’,
That I pay meat an gair,
For to convë my Meggie hame,
.. .. .?’

28
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
Even in Lord Earrel’s coach
They conved the lassie hame.

29
‘Tak hame yer dother, Lord Kennard,
An take her to the glen,
For Earell canno pleas her,
Earell nor a’ his men.’

30
‘Had I ben lady of Earrol,
Of sick a boony place,
I wadne gain to Edinbrugh
My husband to disgrace.’

* * * * *

_Refrain. Given only at the end._

15^4, 16^2. roum.

20^2. gay ladys.

24^4. that that.

288. =E= is also in the small MS. volume of C. K. Sharpe’s, “Songs,” p. 17. The reading in 3^4 is “toss,” “top” being a mis-copy.

289. Findlay MSS, I, 135; ‘Airlie,’ from Miss Butchart, Arbroath.

1
Lord Airlie’s courted mony a lady,
He’s courted mony a ane, O
An he’s awa to bonny Kinnaird,
Lady Katrine’s love to win. O

2
An when he cam to bonny Kinnaird,
An on the bowlin-green,
There he saw his ain Katrine,
Was walking there alane.

3
‘O will ye go to bonnie Airlie,
Alang wi me to dine?
Or will ye go to bonny Airlie,
To be my lady fine?’

4
‘I winna go to bonny Airlie
Alang wi you to dine,
But I will go to bonny Airlie
To be your lady fine.’

* * * * * * *

5
He would not hae the lady gay,
That rustled in her silk,
But he would hae the country-girl,
Goin to sell her milk.

6
He took his Peggie by the hand
An led her through the ha,
An twenty times he kissëd her,
Before the nobles a’.

7
He took his Peggie by the hand
An led her through the trance,
An twenty times he kissëd her
Before he bade her dance.

Findlay MSS, I, 153, from Bell Harris, Muirside of Kinnell, Forfarshire, “once a servant of the family of Carnegie, and now upwards of eighty years of age (1868).”

1
They hae made a marriage o’t,
An they hae made it sune, O
An they hae made a marrige o’t,
It stood at Earlstoon. O

2
When een was come, an bells were rung,
An a’ men boond for bed,
The earl and his gay ladie
In ae chamber were laid.

3
It’s up i the mornin the earl rose,
Went to anither room;
Up she rose an away she goes,
An to Kinnaird she came.

4
They socht her up, they socht her doon,
They socht her through a’ the toon,
An she was seen walkin her lane,
An her bed-goon it was on.

5
He wissd his horse had broken’s neck
When first he to Kinnaird did come.

6
There was na ane bade him come in
But John Lindsay him lane.

7
When he was at bonny Kinnaird,
An on the bowlin-green,
His hair was like the threeds o gold,
An his eyes like diamonds sheen;
He micht’ll ae served the best Carnegie,
That ever bore the name.

8
He said, Tho ye be Kate Carnegie,
I am Sir Gilbert Hay;
I’ll gar your father sell Kinnaird,
Your tocher-gude he maun pay.

9
‘To gar my father sell his land
I think it were a sin,
For ony silly brat like you;
Ye couldna tocher win.

10
‘I may wash my apron
An hing it on the tower,
An I may kilt my petticoats,
They’re even doon afore.’

11
But the earl he’s awa to Edinbro,
To prove himself a man;
The lady she fast followd him,
To swear that he was none.

12
An when they cam to Edinbro,
And into the ha,
There she saw her ain gude lord,
Amang the nobles a’.

13
He took the tapster-lass
An led her through the room,
An twenty times he kissed her mou,
Afore his lady’s een.

14
She took the cocks all frae her head
An dashed them at the wa;
‘Awa! awa, Lord Earl!’ she says,
‘Awa, Lord Earl, awa!’

15
But the earl he hae gotten leave
To choise a maid unto himsel,
An he hae choised a country-lass,
Cam butter an eggs to sell.

16
He took the lassie by the hand
An led her through the room:
‘I’d gie thee three times three hundred pound,
If you’d bear to me a son.’

17
‘Haud aff your hands, Lord Earl,’ she said,
‘Haud aff your hands frae me;
For I wad think it a great disgrate
For a’ my kin an me.’

18
But he has called for a private room,
An there he laid her doun,
An there he took his will o her,
Upon a bed o down.

19
She was three quarters of a year
Confined to a room,
And bonny was the babe she bore,
Sir John Hay was his name.

20
‘Wae be to you, Peggie Stuart,
That ae sister o mine!
Ye’ve pairted me an my gude lord,
We’ll never meet again.’

21
Up spak her sister, Lady Jean,
. . . . . .
An I could gain sick an estate,
I wad gien my husband up to disdain.

* * * * *

6^2. John Lindsay _is explained to be_ the gardener.

11^3. They lady.

13^4. _Followed by_ Wi twenty lookin on, _perhaps an alternative verse_.

14^1. She _is explained as the tapster-lass_.

20^1. _Query by Mr Findlay_: Lady Jean?

290. =D b.= Now collated with a MS. of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, and with another copy of the same pieces in “North Country Ballads,” Miscellanea Curiosa, Abbotsford Library.

Sharpe, p. 15. _Burden_ ^{1,3}. of it.

_Burden_ ^3. you call: of it.

^4. lies alone O.

1^3. at it grows.

2^2. upon a.

2^4. He’s not.

4^1. It’s sure.

6^3. good witness.

7^3. Said, Had I been the lady of Errol.

7^4. of such.

8^3. And he gave her an.

10^1. lien down.

10^2. And a.

12^1. Take home.

12^2. take.

12^3. cannot please her.

Scott.

7^4. O come.

12^4. No can.

232. Richie Story.

P. 292 b, 2d paragraph, first line. Say: L. F., a daughter of John, third Earl.

3d paragraph. Say: Lord John Fleming was created Earl of Wigton, Lord Fleming of Biggar and Cumbernauld, by letters patent dated 19th March, 1606. Hunter (2d ed.), p. 547.

293. =B=, as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 21.

1
Comarnad it is a very bonny place,
An ther is ladys three, madam,
Bat the farest an rarest of them a’
Has marred Richerd Storry.

2
‘O hear is a letter to ye, madam,
Hear is a letter to ye, madam;
The Earl of Hume, that galant knight,
Is fain in love we you, madam.

3
‘Ther is a letter to you, madam,
[Ther is a letter to you, madam;]
The Eearl of Hume, that galant knight,
Disers to be yer servant trou, madam.’

4
‘I ill haa nan of his letters, Richerd,
I ill hae nane of his letters, [Richerd,]
I have voued, an I ill keep it trou,
I ill marry nane bat ye, Richie.’

5
‘Say na saa to me, lady,
Sai na saie to me, lady,
For I ha nether lands nor rents
For to manten ye on, lady.’

6
‘Hunten Tour an Tillebarn,
The house of Athell is mine, Richë,
An ye sall haa them a’,
Fan ever ye inclen, Richë.

7
‘For we will gaa to sea, Richë,
I ill sitt on the deak, Richë,
I ill be yer servant air an lait,
Att any houre ye laek, [Richë.]’

8
‘O manie ye be sad, sister,
An mennie ye be sorry, Nelly,
To live the has of bony Comernid,
An follou Richert Storry?’

9
‘O fatt neads I be sad, sister,
Or fou cane I be sorry, Anna?
A bony lad is my delit,
An my lot has been laid afore me.’

10
As she wen[t] up the Parliment Closs,
We her lassed shene so fine,
Monny an bad the lady good day,
But fue thought she was Richert’s lady.

11
As she went up the Parliment Closs,
We her laised shon so fine,
Monny an halled that gay lady,
But fue halled Richerd Storry.

* * * * *

_The first, second, and fourth verse, perhaps, certainly the second and fourth, should have the trochaic ending which we find in stanzas 2, 5. It may have been supplied ad libitum._

296. =F a.= Preserved in a small MS. volume with the title “Songs” on the cover, entirely in Sharpe’s handwriting, p. 27.

297. =I.= A stanza from the authority of Nannie Blake, an old servant at Peebles: Robert Chambers, in Sharpe’s Ballad Book, 1880, p. 131.

‘Fair Rosewoodie is a’ my ain,
My father left it to me so lately;
Gin ye’ll consent to be my ain,
I’ll gie ye’t a’, my Ritchie Storie.’

235. The Earl of Aboyne.

P. 314. =C.= Here given as it stands in “The Old Lady’s Collection,” No 8.

1
The Earl of Aboyn he’s carrlis an kind,
An he is nou come frae Lonon;
He sent his man him befor,
To tell of his hame-coming.

2
First she called on her chambermad,
Sayn on Jeanie, her gentelwoman:
‘Bring me a glass of the best claret wine,
To drink my good lord’s well-hame-coming.

3
‘My sarvants all, be ready att a call,
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
For the Lord of Aboy[n] is coming.

4
‘My cooks all, be ready at a [c]all,
. . . . . . . .
We the very best of meatt,
For the Lord of Aboyn is coming.

5
‘My maids all, be ready at a call,
. . . . . . . .
The rooms we the best all to be drest,
For the Lord of Aboyn is coming.’

6
She did her to the closs to take him from his hors,
An she welcomed him fra London:
. . . . . . . . .
‘Yer welcome, my gued lord, fra London!’

7
‘An I be saie welcom,’ he says,
‘Ye’ll kiss me for my coming,
For the morn sud ha ben my weding-day
Gif I had stayed att London.’

8
She turned her about we a disdanfull look,
O dear, she was a pritty woman!
‘Gin the morn sud ha ben yer weding-day,
Ye may kiss yer houers at London.’

9
. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
‘So I shall, madam, an ye’s ha na mare to say,
For I ill dine we the markes of Huntly.’

10
She did her to his servant-man,
I wat they caed him Peater Gordon:
‘Ye will ask my good lord if he will late me
We him a singel mille to ride [to London].’

11
‘You ned not, madam,. .. .
I haae asked him already;
He will not lett you a singel mille ride,
For he is to dine we the markes of Huntly.’

12
She called on her chamber-maid,
Sine on Jean, her gentelwoman:
‘Ye make my bed an tay up my head,
Vou’s me for his hear coming!’

13
She lived a year an day, we mucell grife an wae,
The docters were we her dealing;
Withen a crak, her heart it brack,
An the letters they went to London.

14
He gae the table we his foot,
An caped it we his knee,
Gared silver cup an easer dish
In flinders flie.

15
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
‘I rader I had lost a’ the lans of Aboyne
Or I had lost bonny Margrat Irven.’

16
He called on his best servang-man,
I wat they [caed] him Piter Gordon:
‘Ye gett our hosses sadled we speed,
Vou’s me for our hear coming!

17
‘.. .. .. ..
. . . . . . . .
For we’ll a’ be in black, fra the hose to the hat,
Vou’s me for bonny Margrat Irvicen!

18
‘We must to the North, to burry her corps,
Aless for our hear coming!
I rather I had lost a’ the lands of Aboyn
Or I had lost bonny Marg[ra]t Irvien!’

* * * * *

1^1. carliss: _perhaps_ courtis.

8^2. pritty: _doubtful_.

318-20. Copies of =G=, =I=, =J=, were sent by Motherwell to C. K. Sharpe, in a letter dated December 6, 1824. In all the transcripts there are some slight changes of the MS. text, such as Motherwell was quite in the way of making. To =I= he added the following lines, which are found substantially in =J=. They may have been subsequently recollected by the reciter of =I=.

10
She has called her servant-maid,
And Jean, her gentlewoman:
‘Go make me a bed and lay me down,
I’m as sick as any woman.’

11
Word has to new London gane,
To the tavern where he was dining;
He gave such a rap on the table where he sat
Made all the house to wonder.

12
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
‘I would rather hae lost a’ the lands o Aboyne
Or I’d lost my Peggy Irvine!’

* * * * *

11^1. _Motherwell suggests_: Word has now to.

321. Findlay MSS, I, 120. ‘The Yerle o Aboyne,’ from Mrs Main, Inchmarlo, Kincardineshire.

1
The Yerle o Aboyne’s to London gane,
He met in wi a temptin woman;
For she sat an sang an birld at the wine,
An she wadna lat him hame fae Lunon.

* * * * * * *

2
‘My cook-maids a’, be well in ca,
Had pots an pans a boilin,
Wi the roast an the boil,
To attend my guid lord’s comin.’

3
She steppit sae neatly oot the way,
She gaed, she went an met him:
‘Ye’re welcome home, my ain guid lord,
You’r thrice weelcome fae Lunon.’

4
‘An I be welcome home,’ he says,
‘Ye’ll kiss me for my comin,
For this very day I’d been wedded to a maid
Gin I’d staid langer in Lunon.’

5
She turnd her about wi a sorrowfu look,
Such a sorry an angry woman!
‘An the letters be true I receivd last frae you,
Gae kiss your whores in Lunon.’

6
Haem she gaed frae. .. .
. . . . . . .
But wi a crack her heart did brak,
. . . . . . .

7
Fifty letters seald wi black,
An they are on to Lunon,
An when he lookd the letters upon
He says, O wae’s me for my pairtin!

* * * * * * *