Loch-in-var
KATHARINE JAFFARY—K
[_]
Buchan's Gleanings of Scotch, English and Irish Scarce
Old Ballads, 1825, pp. 74, 193; “taken down from oral
tradition.”
1
There lives a lass in yonder dale,
In yon bonny borrows-town,
Her name it is Catherine Jeffrey,
She is loved by mony a ane.
2
Lord Lochinvar has courted her
These twelve months and a day;
With flattering words and fair speeches
He has stown her heart away.
3
There came a knight from south sea-bank,
From north England I mean,
He alighted at her father's yetts,
His stile is Lord Lymington.
4
He has courted her father and moth
Her kinsfolk ane and aye,
But he never told the lady hersell
Till he set the wedding-day.
5
‘Prepare, prepare, my daughter dear,
Prepare, to you I say;
For the night it is good Wednesday night,
And the morn is your wedding-day.’
6
‘O tell to me, father,’ she said,
‘O tell me who it is wi;
For I'll never wed a man on earth
Till I know what he be.’
7
‘He's come a knight from the south sea-bank,
From north England I mean,
For when he lighted at my yetts,
His stile is Lord Lymington.’
8
‘O where will I get a bonny boy
Will win baith meet and fee,
And will run on to Lochinvar
And come again to me?’
9
‘O here am I, a bonny boy
That will win baith hose and sheen,
And will run on to Lochinvar,
And come right seen again.’
10
‘Where ye find the brigs broken,
Bend your bow and swim;
Where ye find the grass growing,
Slack your bow and run.
11
‘When ye come on to Lochinvar,
Byde not to chap nor ca,
But set your bent bow to your breast
And lightly loup the wa.
12
‘Bid him mind the words he last spake,
When we sendered on the lee;
Bid him saddle and ride full fast,
If he be set for me.’
13
Where he found the brigs broken,
He bent his bow and swam;
Where he found the grass growing,
He slackt his bow and ran.
14
When he came on to Lochinvar,
He did not chap nor ca;
He set his bent bow till his breast
And lightly leapt the wa.
15
‘What news? what news, my bonny boy?
What news have ye to me?’
‘Bad news, bad news, my lord,' he said,
‘Your lady awa will be.
16
‘You'r bidden mind the words ye last spake,
When we sendered on the lee;
You'r bidden saddle and ride full fast,
Gin ye set for her be.’
17
When he came to her father's yetts,
There he alighted down;
The cups of gold of good red wine
Were going roun and roun.
18
‘Now came ye here for sport?’ they said,
‘Or came ye here for play?
Or for a sight of our bonny bride,
And then to boun your way?’
19
‘I came not here for sport,’ he says,
‘Nor came I here for play,
But if I had a sight of your bonny bride
Then I will boun my way.’
20
When Lymington he called on her,
She would not come at a',
But Lochinvar he called on her,
And she was not sweer to draw.
21
He has taen her by the milk-white hand,
And by her silken sleeve,
He has mounted her high him behind,
He spiered nae mair their leave.
22
And aye she scoffed and scorned them,
And aye she rode away,
And aye she gart the trumpet sound
The voice of foul play,
To take the bride frae her bridegroom
Upon her wedding-day.
23
As they came in by Foudlin dyke,
And in by Foudlin stane,
There were mony gallant Englishmen
Lay gasping on the green.
24
Now a' you that are English lords,
And are in England born,
Come never here to court your brides,
For fear ye get the scorn.
25
For aye they'll scoff and scorn you,
And aye they'll ride away;
They'll gie you frogs instead of fish,
And call it foul play.
