Ballads in Imitation of the Antient | ||
123
Ballad. The Lassie of Dumfermline Town.
124
Displaying the cunning of a Scottish Maid, who tricked her three auld luvers and was wed to her ain dear Andrewe.
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There lived in Dumfermline Town,
A Lass that was ni white ni brown,
But she was wond'rous pretty,
She had a face most sweet, I trow,
Her form was slim, her eyne like snow,
And she was shrewd and witty.
A Lass that was ni white ni brown,
But she was wond'rous pretty,
She had a face most sweet, I trow,
Her form was slim, her eyne like snow,
And she was shrewd and witty.
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A noble Laird of great Estate,
That was ycrooked i' the gait,
Did plight his troth believe me,
A Knight that four-score years had told,
And eke a yeoman just as old,
Did swear they luv'd her dearly.
That was ycrooked i' the gait,
Did plight his troth believe me,
A Knight that four-score years had told,
And eke a yeoman just as old,
Did swear they luv'd her dearly.
A bonny youth that had no store,
Ni lands, ni kine, ni glittering ore,
Did doat upon this Lassy;
Yet though he lack'd both gold and land,
He had a trusty heart and hand,
As any Laird believe me.
Ni lands, ni kine, ni glittering ore,
Did doat upon this Lassy;
Yet though he lack'd both gold and land,
He had a trusty heart and hand,
As any Laird believe me.
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Yet spight of a
the Laird's rich store,
The Knight's and Yeomen's goodly ore,
She could not luve them truly;
'Twas Andrew's eyne and roguish smile,
That did this maiden's heart beguile,
He had not yet told twenty.
The Knight's and Yeomen's goodly ore,
She could not luve them truly;
'Twas Andrew's eyne and roguish smile,
That did this maiden's heart beguile,
He had not yet told twenty.
Quod she one morn, what must be done?
Those old and rich men everichone
Would fain make me unhappy;
For were I with a one to bed,
I should wish Andrew in his stead,
And that were shameful truly.
Those old and rich men everichone
Would fain make me unhappy;
For were I with a one to bed,
I should wish Andrew in his stead,
And that were shameful truly.
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This lassie was in mickle
pain,
Full oft she thought, and thought again,
Quod she—De'il take this money;
For I am poor as sweet Andrew,
And I do luve the lad so true,
I'd fain do something funny.
Full oft she thought, and thought again,
Quod she—De'il take this money;
For I am poor as sweet Andrew,
And I do luve the lad so true,
I'd fain do something funny.
At eve this hump-back'd laird he came,
Quod he, have pitty on my pain!
The maid she smil'd full sweetly;
An it be so, the lassy cried,
I faith, great Sir, I'll be thy bride,
So thou'lt obey me truly.
Quod he, have pitty on my pain!
The maid she smil'd full sweetly;
An it be so, the lassy cried,
I faith, great Sir, I'll be thy bride,
So thou'lt obey me truly.
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The laird he swore; then said the maid
“Mine uncle hath a right good trade,
“He dwells in Fife's countree;
Gang hence thyself, and with thee bring
Gay jewells and my wedding-ring,
He liveth at Dundee.
“Mine uncle hath a right good trade,
“He dwells in Fife's countree;
Gang hence thyself, and with thee bring
Gay jewells and my wedding-ring,
He liveth at Dundee.
“But ere thou gang from hence thy way,
“That I may buy me sattins gay,
“Straight thou shalt guve to me
“Thy purse that is embroider'd o'er,
“And marks of gold, a precious store,
“Thou must count out fifty.”
“That I may buy me sattins gay,
“Straight thou shalt guve to me
“Thy purse that is embroider'd o'er,
“And marks of gold, a precious store,
“Thou must count out fifty.”
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The laird obey'd the lassie's will,
And straight the silken purse did fill
With gude Scottish money;
Then from the town that very day
This white full joyfull bent his way
Towards our fam'd Dundee.
And straight the silken purse did fill
With gude Scottish money;
Then from the town that very day
This white full joyfull bent his way
Towards our fam'd Dundee.
The Knight and Yeoman did the same,
And whoso can the lassie blame,
She now was right merry;
But when to Dundee's town they hied,
Beshrew this tricking lass, they cried,
No uncle here we see.
And whoso can the lassie blame,
She now was right merry;
But when to Dundee's town they hied,
Beshrew this tricking lass, they cried,
No uncle here we see.
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Unto Dumfermline town again
These aged dotards, with much pain,
Did speed them back, all three;
But when they came, the lass was wed,
She had ta'en Andrew in their stead,
And with the gold han flee.
These aged dotards, with much pain,
Did speed them back, all three;
But when they came, the lass was wed,
She had ta'en Andrew in their stead,
And with the gold han flee.
Each man, he rav'd and curs'd the lass,
The townsfolk jeer'd as they did pass;
Thus trick'd they were, I trow,
And Andrew to the lass was wed,
They jocund liv'd, and luv'd in bed,
Each maid would have done so.
The townsfolk jeer'd as they did pass;
Thus trick'd they were, I trow,
And Andrew to the lass was wed,
They jocund liv'd, and luv'd in bed,
Each maid would have done so.
Ballads in Imitation of the Antient | ||