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97

III. [VOL. III]

AFTER MANY DAYS

As though the billows of the breaking years
Rolled back reversed,
And sounds and sights came back on eyes and ears
Unknown since first
Youth quenched at fountains bright as angels' tears
His great glad thirst,
Deep drinking down dreams of transfigured grief
And figured joy,
And gave his heart up as a shaken leaf,
The first wind's toy,
To the first wind of song, with all belief
That fires a boy,
Whom hope and passionate wonder and delight
Thrill as they throng
Confused and consummated; so to-night
Before the strong
Bright wind of memory wakening with the bright
Keen sound of song
My spirit spreads full sail to take again
That old sweet sense,
Which yet is strange and is not: now as then,
For all the dense
Years interposed with change of times and men
And things passed hence,

98

I know the joy known first when years were less
By full a score,
And find the same song's very loveliness
Beloved before
As bright and sweet and fit for praise to bless
As then of yore.
No praise may give sweet song a blessing worth
The gifts it gives,
Joy, passion, pity brighter-eyed than mirth,
Whose heart forgives
The painless pain that seems not born of earth
Where scarce it lives,
The soft swift pang that hurts not; these the years,
Change not nor slay:
The same sense gathers what the same soul hears
The same song say,
As though the day when first it thrilled our ears
Were yesterday.
May 23, 1881.

235

LORD SOULIS

Lord Soulis is a keen wizard,
A wizard mickle of lear:
Who cometh in bond of Lord Soulis,
Thereof he hath little cheer.
He has three braw castles to his hand,
That wizard mickle of age;
The first of Estness, the last of Westness,
The middle of Hermitage.
He has three fair mays into his hand,
The least is good to see;
The first is Annet, the second is Janet,
The third is Marjorie.
The firsten o' them has a gowden crown,
The neist has a gowden ring;
The third has sma' gowd her about,
She has a sweeter thing.
The firsten o' them has a rose her on,
The neist has a marigold;
The third of them has a better flower,
The best that springeth ower wold.
The kisses that are her mouth within,
There is no man knoweth of any one;
She is a pure maid of her body,
The best that standeth under sun.

336

And Estness was a bonny castle,
It stood upon a sea;
The green for Annet, the yellow for Janet,
The brown for Marjorie.
And Westness was a bonny castle,
It lay upon a lea;
Red wine for Annet, and white for Janet,
And water for Marjorie.
But Hermitage is a fair castle,
The fairest of the three;
Saft beds for Annet, silk sheets for Janet,
Nane sheets for Marjorie.
He made them a' by strong cunning,
That wizard great of hand;
The twain to fall at his life's ending,
The third alway to stand.
He made them a' by hell's cunning,
That wizard full of ill;
They burnt up Estness and cast down Westness,
But Hermitage standeth still.
There be twenty lords in that border,
Full twenty strong lords and three,
They have sworn an oath for Lord Soulis,
Weel wroken of him to be.
They have set a meeting at Emmethaugh,
And upon the Lilienshaw,
They will be wroken of Lord Soulis,
His body to hang and draw.


They have broken bread between them a'
At Ottershawe that's ower the lea,
They wad plunder Estness and harry Westness,
But Hermitage they let be.
They watered steeds by the wan Wellhaugh
Under the sweet leaves green;
Frae the Yethburn head to Christenbury,
To ride they were full keen.
When they were come to the Yethburn spait,
I wot their knees were wet;
When they were come to the Yethburn head,
There was no porter at tha yett.
When they had won to the Bloody-bush,
I wot their sides were sair:
Before they were well upon that border
They had mickle sorrow and care.
‘O gin we were at the sweet Wellhaugh,
Under the merry leaves fair!’
Before they were well on the other side
He set a sair cast them between—
‘O gin we were by the Emmetburn
Under the little leaves green,
Between the birks and the Emmet water,
We had the better been.’
When they came on that weary border,
He sent an ill thing them amang;
‘We winna ride ower to Hermitage,
The wa's they are too strang;
But we will ride to the low castles,
Though the ways be ill to gang.’

338

Out then spak Burd Marjorie's lover,
He was a fair man of his face;
‘Gin I may be wroken of Lord Soulis
I have sma' care of my place;
‘Gin I may be wroken of Lord Soulis
I have sma' care of ony thing;
Of the wine for shedding, the sheets for wedding,
The kirk for christening.
‘I have sma' care of my sad body
Upon the ground to gang;
Gin I wist where I might be wroken of him
I wad give it to him strang.’
Out then spak may Janet's brother,
He was a stout knight and a keen;
‘He has sent his devils us amang
To work us trouble and teen.
‘Gin I wist where I might be wroken of him,
Betwixen dark and day,
I wad give baith my soul and body
To hell to fetch away.’
Out then spak Burd Annet's father,
He was a good man full of age;
‘Ye'll speir at Estness, ye'll speir at Westness,
But no at Hermitage.’
They turned their horse-heads round about,
Rode low down by the sand;
And a' the way they went upon,
The devil went at their hand.

339

The first castle they came to,
It stood upon a sea;
The least worth chamber in a' that castle,
It was a' whalestooth and sandal-tree.
‘O whatten a may is yonder may,
Sae fair to see upon?’
‘O yonder is my daughter Annet,
Out of my ha's was gone.
‘Gin ye'll come hither to me, Annet,
God's grace of me ye 'se have.’
‘I wadna gang out, my auld fool father,
Gin ye were graithed in your grave.’
‘Give me three kisses, my daughter Annet,
Before my mouth is cold.’
‘I winna come forth for nae man's grey beard,
Till my bairn be a sennight old.’
He turned his face against the sea,
His heart brak right atwain;
‘The fire of hell for your body, Annet,
Ere ye behold me again.’
‘Pull off the green, and the goodly green,
Put on the black, the black,
For my father is ridden to Wearyland,
I doubt he'll never win back.’
They turned their horse-heads round about,
Rode high upon a hill;
And a' the gate they gaed about,
The devil them garred gang ill.

340

The neister castle they came to,
It was hard upon the low champaign;
The least worth bower in a' that castle,
It was a' white siller and green stane.
‘O whatten a may is yonder may
That is sae great of her body?’
‘O yonder is my sister Janet,
Was stolen by night frae me.
‘Gin ye'll come hither to me, Janet,
God's love of me ye 'se hae.’
‘I wadna gang out for aye, brither,
Though ye were dead the day.’
‘O ye'll gang down to me, Janet,
For God's sweet mercy and mine;
For I have sought ye the lang lands ower,
These eight months wearing nine.’
‘I winna gang forth for nae brither,
Though his body should be lorn;
I winna gang forth for nae man's face,
Till Lord Soulis' bairn be born.’
He turned his face against the brigg,
His heart brak right in three;
‘The sorrow of hell for you, Janet,
And the warld's sorrow for me.’
‘Take down the red, and the bonny red,
Set up the black, the black:
For my brother is ridden to Wearieswood,
I wot he'll never win back.’

341

They turned their horse-heads round about,
Rode back a day and twain:
And a' the rivers they rode upon
The devil rode at their rein.
The third castle they came to,
It was the castle of Hermitage;
There is nae man may break the sides of it,
Though the stanes therein are great of age.
‘O whatten a may is yonder may,
That looks like ony flower?’
‘O yon is my very love, Marjorie,
Was borne out of my bower.’
The bower Lady Marjorie was in,
It had neither white cloths nor red,
There were nae rushes to the bower floors,
And nae pillows to the bed.
‘O will ye come down but a very little,
For God's sake or for me?
Or will ye kiss me a very little,
But six poor kisses and three?’
She's leaned hersell to that window,
For sorrow she couldna stand;
She's bound her body by that window,
With iron at her hand.
She's sworn by tree and by tree's leaf,
By aits and rye and corn,
‘Gin ye hadna come the night,’ she says,
‘I had been but dead the morn.’

342

She's kissed him under the bower-bar
Nine goodly times and ten;
And forth is come that keen wizard
In the middest of his men.
And forth is come that foul wizard,
God give him a curse and care!
Says ‘the life is one time sweet to have
And the death is three times sair.’
Forth is come that strong wizard,
God give him a heavy day!
Says ‘ye shall have joy of your leman's body
When April cometh after May.’
Between the hill and the wan water
In fields that were full sweet,
There was riding and running together,
And many a man gat red-shod feet.
Between the wa's and the Hermitage water,
In ways that were waxen red,
There was cleaving of caps and shearing of jack,
And many a good man was there dead.
They have taken that strong wizard
To bind him by the hands:
The links of airn brast off his body
Like splints of bursten birken wands.
And they have taken that keen wizard
To bind him by the hause-bane;
The links of airn brast off his body
As blossom that is burst wi' rain.

343

And they have taken that foul wizard
To bind him by the feet:
The links of airn brast off his body
As berries that are burst with heat.
They have putten fire upon his flesh,
For nae fire wad it shrink:
They have casten his body in the wan well-head,
For nae water wad it sink.
Up then gat the fiend Borolallie,
Bade them ‘Give ower and let be:
Between warld's fire and warld's water
He gat a gift of me;
Till fire come out of wan water,
There's nane shall gar him dee.’
‘A rede, a rede, thou foul Borolallie,
A good rede out of hand;
Shall we be wroken of Lord Soulis
By water or by land?
Or shall we be wroken a great way off,
Or even whereas we stand?’
And up it spak him, foul Borolallie,
Between the tree and the leaf o' the tree,
‘Ye maunna be wroken of Lord Soulis
By land neither by sea;
Between red fire and wan water
Weel wroken ye shall be.’
And up it spak him, foul Borolallie,
Between Lord Soulis and them a':
‘Ye maunna be wroken of Lord Soulis
Betwixen house and ha';
But ye maun take him to the Ninestane rigs
And take his life awa'.’

344

They have taken him to the Ninestane rigs
His foul body to slay;
Between the whins and the whinstanes
He had a weary way.
They have taken him to the Ninestane rigs
His foul body to spill:
Between the green broom and the yellow
He gat a bitter ill.
They had a sair cast with his foul body,
There was nae man wist what to do;
‘And O gin his body were weel sodden,
Weel sodden and suppit in broo!’
And out it spak him, foul Borolallie,
Says ‘whatten a coil's this coil?
Ye'll mak a fire on the Ninestane rigs,
For a pot thereon to boil.’
And out it spak him, foul Borolallie,
Says ‘whatten a din's this din?
Ye'll boil his body within the brass,
The brass to boil him in.’
They boiled his body on the Ninestane rigs
That wizard mickle of lear;
They have sodden the bones of his body,
To be their better cheer.
They buried his bones on the Ninestane rigs
But the flesh was a' clean gane;
There was great joy in a' that border
That Lord Soulis was well slain.

345

LORD SCALES

Lord Randal lay in low prison,
He looked against the wa';
‘Gin the big wa' stanes were linen bands,
I'd win weel through them a'.’
Lord Randal sat by a low lattice,
He looked against the sea;
‘Gin the foul bed straws were bonny ships,
I wot weel wad I be.’
Lord Randal stood by a strang window
He looked against his hand;
‘Gin my twa wrist chains were hempen threads,
I'd win weel to the sand.’
‘Ye'll take the rings frae my fingers,
The silk knot frae my hair:
Ye'll gie them to the bonny knight
That cries on me sae sair.
‘Ye'll take the gowd bands frae my back,
The covers frae my bed:
Ye'll gie them to the Lord Randal,
To put beneath his head.
‘Hae silk into your hands, Randal,
And gowd twine to your feet:
And braw pillows about your head
To keep your lang hair sweet.

346

‘For the rain rins through the rank bed straw,
And the wet drips in the wa';
And the wee red worms in this prison
Wad gar your gowd hair fa'.’
‘I had liefer hae my ain twa hands,
And keep my body cold;
I had liefer hae my own twa feet
Than twa sic shoon of gold.
‘But I had liefer hae my lady's mouth
Than the silk and the siller bands;
But I had liefer hae her sweet body
Than a' the gowd in land.
‘I had liefer kiss my lady dead
Than a live woman should kiss me:
I had liefer hae my lady dead
Than a fair woman's live body.’
‘O ye 'se hae twine o' gowd for hemp,
And twine o' silk for thread;
And ye shall hae her fair body,
But no' her body dead.’
She's loosed the knot upon his back,
The knot upon his throat:
She's clad him with a suit of samite,
And red silk to his coat.
She's washed him well wi' sweet waters,
Put spice into his hair;
She's set his feet in a narrow side chamber,
Upon a sideway stair.

347

He's ta'en him to her, Lady Helen,
Where she sat by a bed,
The least cloth upon her body,
It was of the noble red.
The insides of her bed curtains,
The gold was gone them through;
The outsides of her bed curtains,
They were full merry and blue.
The silk side of her bed pillows,
It was of the summer green;
The gold was bound in her gold hair,
That now should tell them twa between.
‘O came ye for my lord's land,
Or for my lord's fee;
Or came ye for my lord's hate,
Or yet for the love of me?
‘O gin ye come like a land robber,
Full soon shall ye hang;
But gin ye come like a woman's lover,
Full sweetly ye shall gang.’
‘O it was never for no hate,
For lord's love nor for fee:
But a' the weird that is me on
It was a' for your body.’
‘Gin ye set nae scorn by me, Randal,
To dree a weird and a pain,
It's no Lord Scales my auld husband
That shall depart us twain.

348

‘Gin this be sooth of you, Randal,
That ye have good will to play;
It's no Lord Scales my auld husband
Shall be better of us twey.
‘For I hae reapers to the land,
And sailors to the sea;
And I hae maidens to my bower
That wait by three and three;
And it's no Lord Scales my auld husband
Shall part my will and me.
‘The first draw rapes upon the ship
Between the sea and the sea sand;
The neist they lie in the lang corn,
Wi' the reaphooks to their hand;
And between the lang beds and the wa',
It's there the maidens stand.’
She's had him to her bonnie bed,
She's laid it warm and wide;
He's clipped that lady by the middle waist,
And by the middle side.
There was neither light nor fire them by,
And they twain were set to sleep,
When she's turned her chin to the pillow side
Made her a space to weep.
He kissed her on her fair twa breasts,
And hard upon her chin;
He's kissed her by her white halse-bane
The little salt tears fell in.

349

The small tears fell about her face
Between her lips and his;
From side to side of her gold hair
Her face was full sad to kiss.
‘Lie down, lie down now, Lady Helen,
Lie still into my hand;
I wadna gie ane o' the pillow-beres
For ten measures of land.
‘Lie still into mine arms, Helen,
Betwixen sheet and sheet:
I wadna gie ane o' the cods of silk
For ten measures of wheat.
‘Lie still into mine arms, Helen,
The gold side of the bed;
I wadna gie ane o' thy kaims o' lammer
For the gold on the queen's head.’
‘It's I lie saft the night, Randal,
With my head against your face;
But gin ye had slept in my stables,
It had been the sweeter place.
‘It's I lie saft the night, Randal,
But ye'll lie hard the morn;
For I hear a mouse rin by the straw,
And a bird rin by the corn.’
‘O whatten a bird is that, Helen,
I wad fain ken what it ails?’
‘It's an auld bird and an ill, Randal,
Gin it be no Lord Scales.’

350

Then in and came her auld husband,
I wot a fu' lean bird was he;
‘It's wake ye or sleep ye now, madame,
Ye 'se gar mak room for me.’
‘O are ye sick the night, Lord Scales,
In the head or else the side?
Or are ye fain to sleep, Lord Scales,
For the fear ye have to ride?’
Randal's taen out her girdle knife,
He's stricken him amang his een;
It was mair for the lady's love
Than it was for his proper teen.
Out came a' her bower maidens,
In their night smocks and night rails;
It was a' for sorrow of their lady,
It was naething for Lord Scales.
Out came a' her bower maidens,
In their sma' coats green and white;
With a red rose wrought for the left breast,
And a rose wrought for the right.
Lord Scales had on a goodly coat,
It was a' bound wi' steel thickly;
Lord Randal had but a little shirt
Between the wind and his body.
The first good straik Lord Randal strak,
The red blood sprang upon his face;
It was mair for his lady's love
Than it was for her lord's grace.

351

The neist good straik Lord Randal strak,
The bright blood sprang upon his nails;
It was mair for love of Lady Helen
Than pity of Lord Scales.
Lord Scales he strak a fu' straight straik,
But Randal strak a sair;
Lord Scales had a little joy of it,
But Lady Helen had mair.
‘Gar set my ships into the sea
And my hooks into the corn;
For gin I have lost a man the night,
I'll get a man the morn.’

352

BURD MARGARET

O wha will get me wheaten bread
And wha will get me wine?
And wha will build me a gold cradle
To rock this child of mine?
‘There's nane will drink of bitter wine,
Nor eat of bitter bread;
There's nane will ca' me a clean maiden
When my body is dead.
‘Nae silk maun come upon my feet,
Nae gowd into my hair;
My brothers smite me on the mouth,
Where nae man shall kiss mair.’
She held her hands in the wan water
Till the fingers were a' red;
Her face was like nae fair burd's face
That has her maidenhead.
She's streekit the water on her hair,
She's signed it ower her chin,
She's streekit the water on her lips
To let the draps gang in.
The tears ran through her fair sma' mouth;
The white bones small and thin
Were waxen sharper in her lang throat,
And in her wrist and chin.

353

‘Gin my mither had wist o' this
When she was left wi' me,
I wot these arms that are waxen lean
Had ne'er gaun round a man's body.
‘Gin my mither had dreamed a dream
That sic a kail should fall on me,
She had bound me between her smock and her kirtle
And cast me ower the sea.
‘She had row'd me between her smock and her kirtle,
Left me to swim or sink;
And I had drunken o' the saut water
Instead of tears to drink.
‘The bairn that is waxen me within,
It is waxen a pain to me;
But weel lie he and ever weel
That made my bairn's body.
‘The white that was in my twa brows,
I wot it is waxen red;
But weel lie he and ever weel
That had my maidenhead.
‘O weel be to the fair red roses
Stood high against my chin;
But ill be to the good green leaves,
For they were half the sin.
‘O weel be to the little bird
Sang low against my knee;
But ill be to my fause nourice,
She had sma' reck of me.

354

‘O weel be to the fair red roses
Stood high against my face;
But ill be to the bonny rowan,
I wish it never grace.’
Burd Margaret lay in the rank water-grass
By the fairest ford in Tyne;
And between the grass and the aspen leaf
She saw their armour shine.
The first of them had fair Milan coats,
The second had but pikes and jacks;
The third had coats of fair scarlet,
And gold across their caps.
There were three and three wi' bits of steel,
And three and three wi' siller fine,
And three and three wi' bits of gold,
Was red as fair new wine.
‘Whatten men be these that rin,’ she said,
‘Or whatten men be these that ride?
Either ye be thieves frae the north border,
Or men that look a bride.’
‘Gin I be rid frae the north border
And my braw bride won south,
I'll gar her clip me round the body
And kiss me on the mouth.’
‘I think ye be nae knight,’ she said,
‘Nae knight that wons about;
There was never man but a devil
That had sae lang a snout.

355

‘Gin I should kiss your mouth,’ she said,
‘I wis I had kissed a loon;
I think ye be some clouted carter,
Albeit ye wear steel shoon.’
‘I am Lord Hugh of Burnieshaw,
Ye may weel ken the face o' me;
And I wad hae back the bonnie lad bairn
That I left here wi' thee.’
‘Gin ye be Hughie of Burnieshaw,
As I trow a better may have been,
Tell me what words I said to you,
When the rowans were green.’
‘O first ye pu'd the green berry,
And syne ye pu'd the red;
And the first word that ever ye spak
Was to complain your maidenhead.
‘O first ye pu'd the red hollin,
And syne ye pu'd the green:
And the first word ye spak to me
Ye grat fu' sair between.’
‘Gin ye be Hughie of Burnieshaw,
As I think weel ye'll never be,
Here have ye back your bonny lad bairn,
That sair has troubled me.’
She's caught her hand to his bridle-rein,
Held up her mouth to touch his chin;
‘Ye garred me pu' the girdle straight
That the fair knave bairn was in.’

356

‘What needs ye flur and mock, Margaret?
What needs ye scorn at me?
Ye never gat harm of your fause brothers,
But ye gat aye the mair gude o' me.’
He's put his hands to her body,
He's laid her thwart his selle;
And ye that hae gotten a bonny sister
Gar keep the neist yoursell.
Aye they rode weel, and aye better,
Until the moon was nigh to sheen;
And aye the tears ran in her breast,
And aye in the gold between.
‘O whether is yon a cry of corbies,
Or men that cry on me?’
‘Bide still, bide still now, Burd Margaret,
For ye hear nothing but the sea.’
‘O whatten is yonder noise,’ she said,
‘That I hear cry on us behind?’
‘Haud ye by my sleeve now, Burd Margaret,
For ye hear naething but the wind.’
Aye they rode weel, and aye better,
Until the moon was waxen weak;
And aye she laid her face to his,
And her tears ran by his cheek.
Aye when he kissed her bonny een,
I wot they grat fu' sair;
Aye when she laid her head to his,
I wot the tears ran through his hair.

357

Aye they rode slow, and aye slower,
Till the moon's time was a' done
Between the road and the saddle
She thought to bear a son.
There she saw her first brother,
Stood back to a fair tree;
Said ‘Grace go with our bonny sister
To ride in sic a companie.’
Said ‘Grace go with our bonny sister,
To wear her gown aside;
It is not meet for a good woman
To set her girdle wide.’
He's stricken the first across the neck,
Shorn clean his beard and hair;
‘How haud ye weel, my fair brother,
Ye 'se get of me nae mair.’
He's cloven the second through the chin,
The third upon the knee;
‘Now haud ye weel, my three brothers,
Ye 'se get nae mair of me.’
They set her in a fair bride-bed,
Full glad she was the morn;
And between the silk and the braw geld claith
The fair knave bairn was born.

358

THE WORM OF SPINDLESTONHEUGH

Lady Helen sat in Spindlestonheugh
With gold across her hair;
For every plait was on her head,
I wot a gold piece was there.
Lady Helen sat in Spindlestonheugh
With gold across her head;
The green gown on her fair body
Was woven with gold thread.
Lady Helen sat in Spindlestonheugh
Wi' silk below her breast;
The best pearl in the queen's girdle
Was lesser than her least.
Lady Helen sat in Spindlestonheugh
With silk upon her feet;
The seams were sewn wi' cloth of scarlet
To keep them frae the weet.
‘O wha will keep the keys for me
Until the lord be hame?
Or wha will ca' his kye for me,
To see gin ony be lame?’
She hadna bided a month but three
With silk bands to her side,
When word is come to Lady Helen
To meet her father's ae new bride.

359

‘Ye'll bring the owsen and the sheep to stall,
Ye'll bring the kye to stand;
Ye'll set the first key in my girdle,
The neist key at my hand.’
‘But gin he has wedded a witch woman
To work sic teen on me,
I'll come nae mair to Spindlestonheugh
Till green grow in a dry tree.’
And she's done on her braw girdle,
Between the sun and moon;
And she's done on her kaims of gold,
Her gold gown and her shoon.
She's tied her hair in three witch knots,
I wot, abune her bonny een;
And for her hair and her body,
I wot she might have been a queen.
‘I wish the sickle was in the rye,
And the rye was ower my head;
And aye the next rose I shall gather,
I wish the white may be the red.’
She's tane the keys intil her hands
Between the red sun and the moon;
The rain ran down upon the grass,
And stained in her silk shoon.
She's tane the keys to her girdle-tie
Between the warm sun and the weet;
The rain that was between the grass and rye
Ran down upon her feet.

360

‘O whatten a burd is yonder burd
That shines about her head?’
‘It is but Helen my ae daughter
Has clad hersell wi' red.’
‘O where gat she thae stones of price,
The warst might serve a queen?’
‘It is but for the summer season
She's clad hersell wi' green.’
Lady Helen knelt upon her knees,
She knelt upon her yellow hair;
‘Hae back your keys, my dear father,
God give you weel to fare.’
Lady Helen knelt into the dust,
She knelt upon the roadway stane;
‘And God you keep, madame, my mither,
As I shall be your ain.’
Out then spak the new-come bride,
I wot she spak wi' pain and care;
‘O some hae gold to weave, Helen,
And some hae gold to wear.’
Out then spak the witch-mother,
I wot she spak fu' little worth;
‘Look where my saddle sits, Helen,
Ye'll stand against the saddle-girth.’
She's tane the red kaims frae her hair,
The red shoon frae her feet;
She's set her face to the saddle-stirrup,
That nane should hear her greet.

361

And aye she ran, and weel she ran
Till her sides were waxen sair;
And the sun that was upon the ways
Had burnt her through her hair.
They hadna ridden a mile but three
When she was fain to bide;
For the blood was come upon her feet
And the pain upon her side.
And whiles she ran, and whiles she grat,
In the warm sun and the cold,
Till they came to the bonny castle
Was bigged upon with gold.
‘O see ye not thae towers, Helen,
Where ye gat meat and wine?
It's I maun ligg in the braw bride-chamber,
And ye maun ligg wi' swine.
‘O see ye not thae halls, Helen,
Where ye gat silk to wear?
It's I shall hae the gold gowns on,
When your body is bare.’
‘O ye'll sit in the braw guest-chamber,
And ye'll drink white and red;
But ye'll gar them gie me the washing water,
The meats and the broken bread?’
‘Ye'll get nae chine o' the broken loaves,
The white bread wi' the brown;
Ye'll drink of the rain and the puddle water
My maids shall cast ye down.’

362

‘O ye'll sit in the braw guest-chamber
Wi' the gowd braids on your hair;
But ye'll gie me a poor coat and a smock
For my body to wear?
‘O I shall ligg i' the trodden straw,
And ye in a gold bride-bed;
But ye'll gie me a claith to hap my feet,
And a claith to hap my head?’
‘Ye'll get no claith to hap you in,
Ye'll get no coats of me;
Ye'll get nae mair but a riven smock
To wear on your body.’
And she's ate of the foul swine's meat
With her saft lips and fine;
She's put her mouth to the rank water,
Was poured amang the swine.
Never ae word spak Lady Helen,
Never ae word but twa;
‘O gin my mither had hands to help,
I wad be weel holpen awa'.’
Never ae word spak Lady Helen,
Never ae word but three;
‘O gin my mither had lips to kiss,
Sae weel she wad kiss me!
‘She wad kiss me on my ravelled hair,
The foul cheek and the chin;
She wad kiss me on the weary mouth,
Where the rank water gaed in.’

363

Out then came the witch-mother:
‘What ails ye now to greet?
Here's grass to hap ye dry, Helen,
And straw to hap ye sweet.’
The rain fell frae her feet and hands,
Frae her lang hair and fine:
‘What ails ye at the baked meats, Helen,
The brown wheat bread and the wine?’
She's turned her by the waist about,
She's turned her by the knee;
She's witched her body to a laidley worm,
A laidley worm to be.
‘The red fruit shall grow in green river water,
And green grass in the wet sea,
Ere ye shall come to a fair woman,
A fair woman to be.’
And she's garr'd bigg her seven swine-trows,
She's made them wide and lang;
She's tane the kail and the meal pocks
That the foul worm might feed amang.
Aye she roupit and aye she croupit
And aye she soupit the mair;
And for the breath of her laidley mouth
The sweet land stank fu' sair.
Word is come to Lady Helen's brother,
In God's town where he lay,
His father had gatten a braw new bride
And his sister was stown away.

364

Word is come to Lord Richard,
Where he was in God's land,
There were nine men out of the north
Would fain be to his hand.
‘Whatten word is this, ye good sailors,
This word ye hae to me?
Gin it be a word of the good land,
A dear word it maun be.’
‘O there is a worm in Spindlestonheugh,
A laidley worm to see;
It has the tongue of a maid-woman,
And a worm's foul body.
‘For nine mile out of Spindlestonheugh
Of grass and rye there is nae routh;
There is sma' routh of the good red corn,
For the breath of her rank mouth.’
‘Whatten word is this, ye carlish caitives?
For this word ye hae to me,
There shall never meat come in my mouth
Till I be put to sea.’
And he's garr'd bigg him a fu' fair ship,
He's biggit it a' of the rowan tree;
It was neither hasped wi' gowd nor airn,
To haud it frae the sea.
It was neither hasped wi' gowd nor airn,
Nor yet wi' siller wan;
But a' the wood it was biggit wi'
Was of the white rowan.

365

And they sailed lang, and they sailed sair,
And they drave ower to south;
And a wind was in the ship's side,
And a wind in the ship's mouth.
And when he came by Spindlestonheugh
He's tane the vervein in his hand;
‘Now God have heed of the fair ship,
For we must row to land.’
‘Have pity of us, O Lord Richard,
For we dare no further gang.’
‘Gin I may come by a goodly gallows,
The best of ye a' shall hang.’
But when he saw the seven swine-trows,
He weened a sair thing to have seen;
And when he saw the laidley worm,
The tears brast ower in his een.
‘O gin ye'll kiss my laidley mouth
For the love of God's body,
I winna do ye scaith, brother,
Though I be a foul thing to see.’
He's put his mouth to her laidley mouth,
He's kissed her once and twice;
‘I had liever lose God's dear body
Than kiss this foul worm thrice.’
He's put his mouth to her laidley mouth,
He's kissed her kisses three;
The flesh fell frae her laidley mouth
And frae her rank body;
And it was but his sister Helen
Stood at Lord Richard's knee.

366

She was clad all in the fair red samite,
Her mouth was red and fair;
There was nae burd in the good land
That had such yellow hair.
He's tane him to the witch-mother
That sat by her bairn's bed;
The gold was gone in her grey hair,
Her face was heavy and red.
‘O wae be wi' you, ye ill woman,
And the young bairn at your knee;
There's never a bairn shall die abed
That comes of your body.’
‘Now God you save, my fair brother,
For his dear body that was dead;
Now God you save and maiden Mary,
That kept me of her maidenhead.’

367

DURIESDYKE

The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke,
Both the winter through and the spring;
And she that will gang to get broom thereby
She shall get an ill thing.
The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke,
Both the winter and the summer day;
And he that will steek his sheep thereby
He shall go sadly away.
‘Between Crossmuir and Duriesdyke
The fieldhead is full green;
The shaws are thick in the fair summer,
And three well-heads between.
‘Flower of broom is a fair flower,
And heather is good to play.’
O she went merry to Duriesdyke,
But she came heavy away.
‘It's I have served you, Burd Maisry,
These three months through and mair;
And the little ae kiss I gat of you,
It pains me aye and sair.
‘This is the time of heather-blowing,
And that was syne in the spring;
And the little ae leaf comes aye to red,
And the corn to harvesting.’

368

The first kiss their twa mouths had,
Sae fain she was to greet;
The neist kiss their twa mouths had,
I wot she laughed fu' sweet.
‘Cover my head with a silken hood,
My feet with a yellow claith;
For to stain my body wi' the dyke-water,
God wot I were fu' laith.’
He's happit her head about wi' silk,
Her feet with a gowden claith;
The red sendal that was of price,
He's laid between them baith.
The grass was low by Duriesdyke,
The high heather was red;
And between the grass and the high heather,
He's tane her maidenhead.
They did not kiss in a noble house,
Nor yet in a lordly bed;
But their mouths kissed in the high heather,
Between the green side and the red.
‘I have three sailing ships, Maisry,
For red wheat and for wine;
The maintopmast is a bonny mast,
Three furlongs off to shine.
‘The foremast shines like new lammer,
The mizzenmast like steel:
Gin ye wad sail wi' me, Maisry,
The warst should carry ye weel.’

369

‘Gin I should sail wi' you, Lord John,
Out under the rocks red,
It's wha wad be my mither's bower-maiden
To hap saft her feet in bed?
‘Gin I should sail wi' you, Lord John,
Out under the rocks white,
There's nane wad do her a very little ease
To hap her left and right.’
It fell upon the midwinter,
She gat mickle scaith and blame;
She's bowed hersell by the white water
To see his ships come hame.
She's leaned hersell against the wind,
To see upon the middle tide;
The faem was fallen in the running wind,
The wind was fallen in the waves wide.
‘There's nae moon by the white water
To do me ony good the day;
And but this wind a little slacken,
They shall have a sair seaway.
‘O stir not for this neid, baby,
O stir not at my side;
Ye'll have the better birth, baby,
Gin ye wad but a little abide.’

370

WESTLAND WELL

Ye maun mak' me a scarlet gown, Lord John,
A scarlet gown to the knee;
It maun be sewn wi' a gowd needle,
To mak' fit wear to me.
‘It maun be sewn wi' a gowd needle,
And spun o' silk for thread;
And ye maun gie me a band of silk,
To tie upon my head.
And ye maun gie me a sheet of silk
To put into my bed.’
‘O wha was 't made ye proud, Janet,
Or ever ye were born?
There's nae gowd in the land, Janet,
Is redder than the corn.
‘O wha was 't taught you words, Janet,
Or wha was 't learned you pride?
There's mony a better face than yours
Would fain lie neist my side.’
‘O haud your tongue, Lord John o' the Mains,
I doubt ye hae drunken wine;
There is not a maid that wons in heaven
Wi' sic a face as mine.

371

‘Gin I were set in the high heaven,
And God's mother were set below,
I wad be queen of the high heaven,
And she wad be let go.’
When she cam in Lord John's bower,
She never had kissed man:
When she cam frae Lord John's bower
She was but his leman.
‘O ye'll gar mak' me a bonny bed,
Ye'll make it warm and sweet,
Ye'll set a pillow to my head, mither,
And a pillow to my feet.’
It fell about the middle May time
When the apple flowers wax red,
Her mither began to chide with her
She kept sae lang abed.
‘I canna stand to walk, mither,
But I'm just like to die,
And wae be to your bonny bloodhound
That bit me by the knee.
‘Yestreen my maids took off the sheet
To wash i' the Westland Well,
And lest the bonny web suld ravel,
I set a hand mysell.
‘We washed the blue thread and the brown,
The white thread and the black;
And sae cam ben your fause bloodhound,
And bit me in the back.

372

‘Sae sair it rent and bit, mither,
Sae sair it bit and clang,
And ever I hope in God, mither,
Ye'll gar that bloodhound hang.’
‘What's this o't now, maiden Janet?
What's this o't now?’ quo' she;
‘There's nae such hound that bites women,
There's nae such langs to me.
‘Tell me now, Janet,’ she says,
‘And I winna gar ye lee,
Is this a hound's tooth or a child's shaping
That mars your straight body?
‘O where your cheek was red, Janet,
Your cheek is sick and wan;
And where your back was right and flat,
It bows like a loaden man.
‘O where your throat was round, Janet,
It's lean and loose by this;
And where your lip was sweet, Janet,
It's grown too thin to kiss.’
The blood sprang in her cheek, fair Janet,
The blood sprang in her chin;
‘I doubt there's ane wad kiss me, mither,
Though I be sick and thin.’
About the time of moon-rising
They set her saft in bed,
About the time of star-setting
They streekit her for dead.

373

‘O ill be in your meat, Lord John,
And ill be in your wine;
Gin the bairn be none of your getting,
I'm sure it's none of mine.
‘Ill be in your bed, Lord John,
And ill be in your way,
Gin ye had been hangit a year agone,
I had been the merrier May.’

374

EARL ROBERT

O some ride east and some ride north,
And some ride west and south;
But the ae best gate that ever I rade
Was a' for her red mouth.
‘O some wear blue and bonny scarlet,
And some wear green and red;
And it's a' for love of her yellow hair
I'll wear but golden thread.’
‘Gin this be Annie of Waterswa'
That gars ye speak sae hie,
There's nae man of your name, Earl Robert,
Shall get her fair body.’
O then he came by Waterswa',
The rain was sair and strang;
Fair Annie sat in a bower-window,
And her gold hair was grown lang.
‘Gin I might swim to ye, Robert,
I wad never spare for gloves or gown;
I wad never spare for the cold water,
But I have sore fear to drown.’
‘Now God thee hold, thou fair Annie,
The wa's are hard to leap;
The water is ill to swim, Annie,
And the brigg is ill to keep.’

375

‘Gin I should open to ye, Robert,
I wis it were open shame:
It were great pity of me, Robert,
For I gang but sick and lame.
‘O twice I cuttit the silk string through
That was upon my back;
And twice I cuttit the gown away
That wadna haud me slack.
‘It's ill wi' me the night, Robert,
It's weel wi' my leman;
For the wine that comes in my fingers,
I spill it on my han';
And the meat that's in my very mouth,
I wot it feeds a man.’
‘Gin I may win to ye, Annie,
I think ye'll keep me weel.’
‘I were the liefer of you, Robert,
But for the doors of shut steel.’
‘Gin I may win to ye, Annie,
The tane o' us should weel fare.’
‘There's three men keep the ways, Robert,
Between the gate and the water-stair.’
‘I wot the night there's deep water,
Runs red upon the brim:
It's full between the wa's, Annie,
This were but ill to swim.

376

‘There's rain the night in Carrilees,
I wot the rain is rank;
There be twa fathoms of strang water
Between it bank and bank.’
But he's rid out through Carrilees' brow,
I wot, baith wet and wan;
Annie lay in her chamber-window,
She was a glad woman.
Between the gate and the water-stair
He made him room to stand;
The wet ran frae his knees and feet,
It ran upon his hand.
And he's won through to her chamber,
He's kissed her neist the chin:
‘O gin ye'll keep me out, Annie,
Is there ony will take me in?’
Up then gat her auld father,
Between the wall and her bed feet;
‘Is there ony breath in your lips, Earl Robert,
To gar a dead mouth smell sweet?’
He's tane her by the gold girdle,
He's garr'd it break atwain;
There's nae room here for Earl Robert,
The ways are sae fu' o' rain.
He's tane a keen sword in his hand,
He's set him to the wa';
And the very heart's blood of Earl Robert,
I wot he's garr'd it fa'.

377

Out then spak she, fair Annie,
At the bed's foot where she lay;
‘There's a time for you the night, father,
And a time for us the day.
‘O gin ye dig na deep, father,
I wot ye maun dig wide;
And set my lord to the nether hand,
And my bairn to the green side.
‘Ye'll set my head to his foot, father,
That he be neist the sun;
For a' that was between us twa,
I think it's a' weel done.’

378

THE KING'S AE SON

Quo' the bracken-bush to the wan well-head,
‘O whatten a man is this man dead?’
‘O this is the King's ae son,’ quo' she,
‘That lies here dead upon my knee.’
‘What will ye do wi' the King's ae son?’
‘The little fishes shall feed him on.’
‘What will ye strew for his body's bed?’
‘Green stanes aneath his head.’
‘What will ye gie for his body's grace?’
‘Green leaves abune his face.’
‘What will ye do wi' the rings on his hand?’
‘Hide them ower wi' stane and sand.’
‘What will ye do wi' the gowd in his hair?’
‘Hide it ower wi' rushes fair.’
‘What shall he have when the hill-winds blow?’
‘Cauld rain and routh of snow.’
‘What shall he get when the birds fly in?’
‘Death for sorrow, and sorrow for sin.’

379

‘What shall come to his father, the King?’
‘Long life and a heavy thing.’
‘What shall come to his mother, the Queen?’
‘Grey hairs and a bitter teen.’
‘What to his leman, that garr'd him be slain?’
‘Hell's pit and hell's pain.’

380

LADY MAISIE'S BAIRN

Gin ye winna cease for the pity of him,
O cease for the pity of me;
There was never bairn born of a woman
Between the sea-wind and the sea,
There was never bairn born of a woman
That was born so bitterly.’
The ship drove hard upon the wind,
I wot it drove full mightily;
But the fair gold sides upon the ship
They were bursten with the sea.
‘O I am sae fain for you, Lord John,
Gin ye be no sae fain;
How shall I bear wi' my body,
It is sae full of pain?
‘O I am sae fain of your body,
Ye are no sae fain of me’;
But the sails are riven wi' the wind
And the sides are full of sea.
O when she saw the sails riven,
The sair pain bowed her back;
But when she saw the sides bursten,
I wot her very heart brak.

381

The wind waxed in the sea between,
The rain waxed in the land;
Lord John was happéd wi' saut sea-faem,
Lady Maisie wi' sea-sand;
And the little bairn between them twa
That was to her right hand.
The rain rains sair on Duriesdyke
To the land side and the sea;
There was never bairn born of a woman
That was born mair bitterly.

382

WEARIESWA'

The wind wears ower the Wearieswa'
To the right and the left hand;
The wind wears ower by the Wearieswa'
And under by the sea-sand.
Every bolt in Wearieswa'
Wi' siller was it sparred;
Every gate in Wearieswa'
Wi' red gold was it barred.
Every window in Wearieswa'
It was hasped in nickel keen;
Every bower in Wearieswa'
It was set wi' rushes clean.
There wonneth a woman in the Wearieswa',
A strong spell is her upon;
He that shall kiss her mouth for love
Of his life he is fordone.
There is nae man made of a woman
As the grass grows and the corn,
But gin he have kissed that lady's mouth
Of his lips he is forlorn.
Lord Robert is ridden to the Wearieswa'
Between the low ling and the heather hie;
A wind was comen out of Wearieswa'
Between the hielands and the sea.

383

‘O whatten a wind is this weary wind
A weary wind to me?
It's neither a scart o' the mill-water,
Nor yet a wind o' the sea.’
Lady Janet looked ower by a little window,
She was fain of any man;
For the lack of love that was her in
All her body was wan.
She's laid her chin out ower the wa' stanes,
All her body was weak;
The tears fell over in her face wan,
Betwixen mouth and cheek.
‘Gin I kissed that lady on her lips,
The better man would I be;
Gin I kissed that lady on her hands twain
'Twere pain of my body.’
‘O gin ye should kiss my weary hands
Your teen would be fu' sair;
And gin ye should kiss my heavy mouth
Your teen wad be mickle mair.
‘But ye'll gae down to yon wan water-side,
Gar make a ship of ashen tree;
And ye maun sail by seven ways
Between the faem and the green sea.
‘The first water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Wearieswyte;
Whoso cometh to that water
He shall have little delight.

384

‘The neist water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Wearieswan;
Whoso cometh to that water
He is nae sicker man.
‘The neist water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Weariesway;
Whoso cometh to that water
He wins the better away.
‘The neist water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Wearieswoe;
Whoso cometh to that water
He shall neither stand nor go.
‘The neist water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Weariesween;
Whoso cometh to that water
Of his body he shall have teen.
‘The neist water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Weariesyett;
Whoso cometh to that water
An ill wonning he shall get.
‘The last water ye'll sail upon
Men call it Wearieshead;
Whoso cometh to that water
It were better for him to be dead.
‘And gin the sair sea scathe you not
Nor the sea-worms in the sea,
This weary weird that is me upon
Ye shall take off from me.

385

‘And gin the water win you not upon
Ye shall have good harbouring,
When ye come back to Wearieswa',
About the fair birk flowering.
‘And ye maun be yoursell alane
And I with a' my men,
And ye maun stand low down them amang
To see if I shall you ken.’
‘Gin the wan water win me not upon
Between the sea-banks and the sea,
Then I'll come back for your sake, Janet,—
A token I'll hae wi' me.’
‘But how shall ye be seen, Hynd Robert,
O how shall ye be known,
Amang so mony gentlemen
That wear the gold alone?’
‘O where they wear the goodly bright gold
I shall wear yellow and black;
And a little green hood behind my hair
To hang down at my back.
‘But how shall ye be kent, Janet,
Or how shall ye be seen,
Amang so many goodly ladies
That ye maun gang between?’
‘O where they wear a ring, Robert,
I shall wear two and three,
And a girdle with a fair white stane,
And by that ye shall ken me.

386

‘And where they wear but yellow lammer,
I shall wear siller sheen;
And where they gang like a queen's handmaids,
I shall gang like a queen.
‘A kell o' gowd abune my head
And a band abune my eebree,
And in every o' them a jewel stone
My witness for to be;
‘And half my kirtle of red sendal
To hang down at my knee;
And half my kirtle of brown sendal
That shall be wrought to me.
And the shoon on my feet of yellow samite
And by that ye shall me see.’
He's made him a ship o' the goodly ash
The sides thereof were wan;
The first water he sailed upon
He was the heavier man.
A' the oars were wrought of gold
And a' the sails of red;
The last water he sailed upon
He seemed he was but dead.
But he's won back to Wearieswa'
That was hard on a great sea;
His hair was fu' of the wan sea-water
And he halted of his knee.
Between the sea and the sea-banks
He's let his bonny ship stand;
His clothes were fu' of the wan rain-water
And he halted of his hand.

387

‘O I will draw to me a weed,
A weed baith poor and low,
And I will gang before my lady's face,
To see if she will me know.’
And he has drawn to him a weed
A weed of yellow and black;
But there was nae hood behind his hair
To hang down at his back.
The first gate that he came to
It was little for his delight;
The knappies that were that gate upon
They were hewn of siller white.
The last gate that he came by
It was little for his ease;
Before he had well won ower it,
The blood ran frae his knees.
The neist gate that he came by
His comfort was waxen cold;
Every bolt that gate within
It was carven of red gold.
And he's gane up to the high chamber,
He's found that lady there,
The red sendal on her body,
And the red gold in her hair.
And as he stood low and very low
Amang thae goodly men;
He stood amang them hoodless,
There was nae man did him ken.

388

And she spied him weel and very weel
Gin she might his body see;
‘O wha is yon gangs hoodless,
For my love it mauna be.’
And she sought weel and very weel
Gin she might him behold;
She was mair fain of his fair body
Than the rain is of the mould.
And a' the men that were her before
They were red and nothing wan;
And when she saw his goodly face,
She weened it was another man.
And when she looked his face upon,
It was wan and nothing red,
And a' his hair was riven wi' rain
That rained upon his head.
‘O ye'll take out yon hoodless man,
That hirples on the marl;
I thought it were my love, Hynd Robert,
It is but a hireman carl.
‘And ye'll take out yon gangrel fellow
That hirples on the clay;
I thought it were my love, Hynd Robert,
That has been lang away.’
He's taen him down to yon wan water-stand,
The tears fell ower his een;
Before he was weel in his goodly ship
The wind began to ween.

389

He's turned his face to the fair leeland,
He was right fu' o' care;
Before he was weel upon the sea,
The water was waxen sair.
‘Ye'll cast me in the heavy water
That is both green and black,
And ye'll bind my feet with a twine of silk;
Pray for the storms to slack.
‘Ye'll cast me in the weary water
That is both green and grey,
And ye'll bind my arms upon my back;
Pray for the rains to stay.’
And they've cast over his fair body
In the water that was sae white;
And they drove over before the wind
A day's space and a night.
The first wave that cam nigh the ship
It smote her in the side;
And ever alas! quo' the ae first man,
‘This water is ill to bide!’
The neist wave that cam nigh the ship,
It smote her in the head;
‘Haul round, haul round,’ quo' the eldest man,
‘This water maun be our deid!’
And they spied ower the wan sea wide
To see gin ony help might be;
And there they saw him, Hynd Robert,
That fleeted upright in the sea.

390

And they spied out upon the sea,
It was a weary water and wan;
And there they saw him, Hynd Robert
That fleeted as a living man.
‘O whatten a weird is this, Hynd Robert,
That is of your body,
To fleet out ower in the easterin' wind
That thraws upon the sea?’
‘The wind shall blaw in the wan water,
It shall never slack for me,
Till ye bring my lady to yon sea-sand,
Cast her body in the sea.
‘The wind shall thraw in the wild water;
I wot it shall never bide,
Till ye bring that lady to yon sea-banks,
Cast her body ower the ship's side.’
They've had that lady to yon sea-banks
And ower by yon heather hie;
They bound her hands before her face,
Cast her body in the sea.

391

THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER

It was intill a goodly time,
The first morning in May,
The bonny Earl of Mar's daughter
Went forth hersell to play.

392

She's tane her to the bonny birkenshaw
Amang the fair green leaves;
There she saw a bonny doo
Sat on the leaf o' the tree.
‘O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,
Gin ye'll come down to me,
I'll gie ye a cage of good red gowd
For a cage of greenshaw tree.
‘Gowden hingers roun' your cage,
And siller roun' your wa',
I'll gar ye shine as bonny a bird
As the bonniest ower them a'.’
She hadna weel these words spoken,
Nor yet she hadna said,
Till Coo-me-doo flew frae the leaves
And lighted on her head.
And she's tane hame this bonny bird,
Brought him to bower and ha';
She's garred him shine the bonniest bird
That was out ower them a'.
When day was gane and night was come
In ae chamber they were that tide;
And there she saw a goodly young man
Stood straight up at her side.
‘How cam ye in my bower-chamber,
For sair it marvels me,
For the bolts are made o' the good red gowd
And the door-shafts of a good tree.’

393

‘O haud your tongue now, May Janet,
And of your talking let me be;
Mind ye not on your turtle-doo
That ye brought hame wi' ye?’
‘O whatten a man are ye,’ she said,
‘Fu’ sair this marvels me;
I doubt ye are some keen warlock
That wons out ower the sea.
‘O come ye here for ills?’ she says,
‘Or come ye for my good?
I doubt ye are some strong warlock
That wons out ower the flood.’
‘My mither is lady of strange landis
Stand far out ower the sea;
She witched me to a birdie's shape
For the love of your body.
‘My mither is queen of the witch-landis
Lie baith to north and south;
She witched me to a birdie's body
For the love of your goodly mouth.
‘She can well of witches' work,
She maketh baith mirth and meen;
She witched me to a little bird's body
For the love of your twa grey een.
‘It was a' for your yellow hair
That I cam ower the sea;
And it was a' for your bonny mouth
I took sic weird on me.’

394

‘O Coo-me-doo, my love sae true,
Nae mair frae me ye 'se gae.
The stanes shall fleet on the wan waters
Before we twain be twey.
‘O Coo-me-do, my love sae true,
It's time we were abed.’
‘O weel for you, my ain sweet thing,
It's be as ye have said.’
Then he's dwelt in her bower-chamber
Fu' sax lang years and ane,
And seven fair sons she's borne to him,
Fairer was there never nane.
The first bairn she's borne to him
He's tane him ower the sea;
He's gien it to his auld mither,
Bade well nourished it should be.
The seventh bairn she's borne to him,
He's tane him frae his make;
He's gien it to his auld mither,
Bade nourice it for his sake.
And he's dwelt in her bower-chamber
Fu' six years thro' and three,
Till there is comen an auld grey knight
Her wed-lord for to be;
She had nae will to his gowden gifts
Nor wad she to his fee.
[OMITTED]

395

Out then spak the bonny bird,
He heard what they did say;
Says: ‘Wae's be to you, ye auld grey man,
For it's time I were away.’
Then Coo-me-doo took flight and flew,
He flew out ower the sea;
He's lighted by his mither's castle-ha'
On a tower of gold fu' hie.
[OMITTED]