University of Virginia Library

previous section The English and Scottish Popular Ballads
next section
394

The Broomfield Hill

THE BROOMFIELD HILL—A

[_]

a. Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 271, ed. 1803. b. Sts. 8-14; the same, II, 229, ed. 1802.

1

There was a knight and a lady bright,
Had a true tryste at the broom;
The ane gaed early in the morning,
The other in the afternoon.

2

And ay she sat in her mother's bower door,
And ay she made her mane:
‘O whether should I gang to the Broomfield Hill,
Or should I stay at hame?

3

‘For if I gang to the Broomfield Hill,
My maidenhead is gone;
And if I chance to stay at hame,
My love will ca me mansworn.’

4

Up then spake a witch-woman,
Ay from the room aboon:
‘O ye may gang to the Broomfield Hill,
And yet come maiden hame.

5

‘For when ye gang to the Broomfield Hill,
Ye'll find your love asleep,
With a silver belt about his head,
And a broom-cow at his feet.

6

‘Take ye the blossom of the broom,
The blossom it smells sweet,
And strew it at your true-love's head,
And likewise at his feet.

7

‘Take ye the rings off your fingers,
Put them on his right hand,
To let him know, when he doth awake,
His love was at his command.’

8

She pu'd the broom flower on Hive Hill,
And strewd on's white hals-bane,
And that was to be wittering true
That maiden she had gane.

9

‘O where were ye, my milk-white steed,
That I hae coft sae dear,
That wadna watch and waken me
When there was maiden here?’

10

‘I stamped wi my foot, master,
And gard my bridle ring,
But na kin thing wald waken ye,
Till she was past and gane.’

11

‘And wae betide ye, my gay goss-hawk,
That I did love sae dear,
That wadna watch and waken me
When there was maiden here.’

12

‘I clapped wi my wings, master,
And aye my bells I rang,
And aye cry'd, Waken, waken, master,
Before the ladye gang.’

13

‘But haste and haste, my gude white steed,
To come the maiden till,
Or a' the birds of gude green wood
Of your flesh shall have their fill.’

14

‘Ye need na burst your gude white steed
Wi racing oer the howm;
Nae bird flies faster through the wood,
Than she fled through the broom.’
previous section The English and Scottish Popular Ballads
next section