The New-Slain Knight
THE NEW-SLAIN KNIGHT
[_]
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 197.
1
My heart is lighter than the poll;
My folly made me glad,
As on my rambles I went out,
Near by a garden-side.
2
I walked on, and farther on,
Love did my heart engage;
There I spied a well-faird maid,
Lay sleeping near a hedge.
3
Then I kissd her with my lips
And stroked her with my hand:
‘Win up, win up, ye well-faird maid,
This day ye sleep oer lang.
4
‘This dreary sight that I hae seen
Unto my heart gives pain;
At the south side o your father's garden,
I see a knight lies slain.’
5
‘O what like was his hawk, his hawk?
Or what like was his hound?
And what like was the trusty brand
This new-slain knight had on?’
6
‘His hawk and hound were from him gone,
His steed tied to a tree;
A bloody brand beneath his head,
And on the ground lies he.’
7
‘O what like was his hose, his hose?
And what like were his shoon?
And what like was the gay clothing
This new-slain knight had on?’
8
‘His coat was of the red scarlet,
His waistcoat of the same;
His hose were of the bonny black,
And shoon laced with cordin.
9
‘Bonny was his yellow hair,
For it was new combd down;’
Then, sighing sair, said the lady fair,
‘I combd it late yestreen.
10
‘O wha will shoe my fu fair foot?
Or wha will glove my hand?
Or wha will father my dear bairn,
Since my love's dead and gane?’
11
‘O I will shoe your fu fair foot,
And I will glove your hand;
And I'll be father to your bairn,
Since your love's dead and gane.’
12
‘I winna father my bairn,’ she said,
‘Upon an unkent man;
I'll father it on the King of Heaven,
Since my love's dead and gane.’
13
The knight he knackd his white fingers,
The lady tore her hair;
He's drawn the mask from off his face,
Says, Lady, mourn nae mair.
14
‘For ye are mine, and I am thine,
I see your love is true;
And if I live and brook my life
Ye'se never hae cause to rue.’
