Lord Ronald, my son
LORD RANDAL—P
[_]
Communicated by Mr Macmath, of Edinburgh, as derived
from his aunt, Miss Jane Webster, formerly of Airds of
Kells, now (January, 1883) of Dalry, Kirkcudbrightshire,
who learned it more than fifty years ago from Mary Williamson,
then a nurse-maid at Airds.
1
‘Where hae ye been a' day, Lord Ronald, my son?
Where hae ye been a' day, my handsome young one?’
‘I've been in the wood hunting; mother, make my bed soon,
For I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
2
‘O where did you dine, Lord Ronald, my son?
O where did you dine, my handsome young one?’
‘I dined with my sweetheart; mother, make my bed soon,
For I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
3
‘What got you to dine on, Lord Ronald, my son?
What got you to dine on, my handsome young one?’
‘I got eels boiled in water that in heather doth run,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
4
‘What did she wi the broo o them, Lord Ronald, my son?
What did she wi the broo o them, my handsome young one?’
‘She gave it to my hounds for to live upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
5
‘Where are your hounds now, Lord Ronald, my son?
Where are your hounds now, my handsome young one?’
‘They are a' swelled and bursted, and sae will I soon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
6
‘What will you leave your father, Lord Ronald, my son?
What will you leave your father, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave him my lands for to live upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
7
‘What will you leave your brother, Lord Ronald, my son?
What will you leave your brother, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave him my gallant steed for to ride upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
8
‘What will you leave your sister, Lord Ronald, my son?
What will you leave your sister, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave her my gold watch for to look upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
9
‘What will you leave your mother, Lord Ronald, my son?
What will you leave your mother, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave her my Bible for to read upon,
And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.’
10
‘What will you leave your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?
What will you leave your sweetheart, my handsome young one?’
‘I'll leave her the gallows-tree for to hang upon,
It was her that poisoned me;’ and so he fell doun.
