The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
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Young Tam Lane
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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
Young Tam Lane
TAM LIN—H
1
I forbid ye, maidens a',That wears gowd in your hair,
To come or gang by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lane is there.
2
I forbid ye, maidens a',That wears gowd in your green,
To come or gang by Carterhaugh,
For fear of young Tam Lane.
3
‘Go saddle for me the black,’ says Janet,‘Go saddle for me the brown,
And I'll away to Carterhaugh,
And flower mysell the gown.
4
‘Go saddle for me the brown,’ says Janet,‘Go-saddle for me the black,
And I'll away to Carterhaugh,
And flower mysel a hat.’
5
She had not pulld a flowr, a flowr,A flower but only three,
Till up there startit young Tam Lane,
Just at bird Janet's knee.
6
‘Why pullst thou the herb, Janet,And why breaks thou the tree?
Why put you back the bonny babe
That's between you and me?’
7
‘If my child was to an earthly man,As it is to a wild buck rae,
I would wake him the length of the winter's night,
And the lea lang simmer's day.’
8
‘The night is Halloween, Janet,When our gude neighbours will ride,
And them that would their true-love won
At Blackning Cross maun bide.
9
‘Many will the black ride by,And many will the brown,
But I ride on a milk-white steed,
And ride nearest the town:
Because I was a christened knight
They gie me that renown.
10
‘Many will the black ride by,But far mae will the brown;
353
Grip fast and pull me down.
11
‘Take me in yer arms, Janet,An ask, an adder lang;
The grip ye get ye maun haud fast,
I'll be father to your bairn.
12
‘Take me in your arms, Janet,An adder and a snake;
The grip ye get ye maun haud fast,
I'll be your warld's make.’
13
Up bespak the Queen of Fairies,She spak baith loud and high:
‘Had I kend the day at noon
Tam Lane had been won from me,
14
‘I wad hae taen out his heart o flesh,Put in a heart o tree,
That a' the maids o Middle Middle Mist
Should neer hae taen Tam Lane frae me.’
15
Up bespack the Queen of Fairies,And she spak wi a loud yell:
‘Aye at every seven year's end
We pay the kane to hell,
And the koors they hae gane round about,
And I fear it will be mysel.’
| The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | |