The Laird of Geight, or Gae; or, The Laird of Geight
GEORDIE—C
[_]
a. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,”
Abbotsford, No 38, MS. of Thomas Wilkie, 1813-15, p.
16; taken down from the singing of Miss Christy Robertson,
Dunse. B. “Scotch Ballads,” etc., No 108, in a lady's
hand, and perhaps obtained directly from Miss Robertson.
1
There was a battle in the north,
Among the nobles many;
The Laird of Geight he's killd a man,
And there's nane to die but Geordie.
[OMITTED]
2
‘What news? what news, my bonny boy?
What news hae ye frae Geordie?’
‘He bids ye sew his linen shirts,
For he's sure he'll no need many.’
3
‘Go saddle the black, go saddle the brown,
Go saddle to me the bonny;
For I will neither eat nor drink
Until I see my Geordie.’
4
They've saddled the black, they've saddled the brown,
They've saddled her the bonny,
And she is away to Edinborough town,
Straight away to see her Geordie.
5
When she came to the sea-side,
The boats they were nae ready;
She turned her horse's head about,
And swimd at the Queen's Ferry.
6
And when she came to the prison-door,
There poor folks they stood many;
She dealt the red guineas them among,
And bade them pray weel for Geordie.
7
And when she came into the hall,
Amang the nobles many,
The napkin's tied on Geordie's face,
And the head's to gae frae Geordie.
8
‘I have born ten bonny sons,
And the eleventh neer sa his dadie,
And I will bear them all oer again
For the life o bonny Geordie.
9
‘I have born the Laird of Gight,
And the Laird of bonny Pernonnie;
And I will gie them all to thee
For the life of my bonny Geordie.’
10
Up then spoke [a kind-hearted man],
Wha said, He's done good to many;
If ye'll tell down ten hundred crowns
Away ye shall hae yer Geordie.
11
Some telld shillings, and some telld crowns,
But she telld the red guineas many,
Till they've telld down ten hundred crowns,
And away she's got her Geordie.
12
[It's up then spoke an Irish lord,
And O but he spoke bauldly!]
‘I wish his head had been on the block,
That I might hae got his fair lady.’
13
She turned about [OMITTED]
And O but she spoke boldly!
‘A pox upon your nasty face!
Will ye eer be compared to my Geordie?’
14
She set him on a milk-white steed,
Herself upon another;
The thrush on the briar neer sang so clear
As she sang behind her Geordie.
