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The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Edited by Francis James Child.

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Glenlogie
  
  
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344

Glenlogie

GLENLOGIE, OR, JEAN O BETHELNIE—G

[_]

Alexander Laing's MS., “Ancient Ballads and Songs, etc., etc., from the Recitation of Old People,” p. 8, 1829.

1

There was mony a braw noble cum to our king's ha,
But the bonnie Glenlogie was the flower o them a';
An the young ladye Jeanye, sae gude an sae fair,
She fancyd Glenlogie aboon a' that were there.

2

She speered at his footman that rode by his side
His name an his surname an whare he did bide:
‘He bides a[t] Glenlogie whan he is at hame,
He is of the gay Gordons, an John is his name.’

3

‘Oh, Logie, Glenlogie, I'll tell you my mind;
My luve is laid on you, O wad ye prove kind!’
He turned him about, as the Gordons do a',
‘I thank [you], fair ladye, but I'm promised awa.’

4

She called on her maidens her hands for to take,
An the rings on her fingers she did them a' break:
‘Oh, Logie, Glenlogie! Oh, Logie!’ said she,
‘Gin I get na Glenlogie, I'm sure I will die.’

5

‘O hold your tongue, daughter, an weep na sae sair,
For ye'll get Drumfindlay, his father's young heir.’
‘O hold your tongue, father, an let me alane,
Gin I get na Glenlogie, I winna hae ane.’

6

Her father wrote a broad letter wi speed,
And ordered his footman to run and ride;
He wrote a broad letter, he wrote it wi skill,
An sent it to Glenlogie, who had dune her the ill.

7

The first line that he read, a light laugh gae he;
The next line that he read, the tear filld his ee:
‘O what a man am I, an hae I a maik,
That such a fine ladye shoud die for my sake?

8

‘Ye'll saddle my horse, an ye'll saddle him sune,
An, when he is saddled, bring him to the green:’
His horse was na saddled an brocht to the green,
When Glenlogie was on the road three miles his lane.

9

When he came to her father's, he saw naething there
But weeping an wailing an sobbing fu sair:
O pale an wan was she when Logie gaed in,
But red an ruddie grew she when Logie gaed ben.

10

‘O turn, Ladye Jeany, turn ye to your side,
For I'll be the bridegroom, an ye'll be the bride:’
It was a blythe wedding as ever I've seen,
An bonny Jeany Melville was scarce seventeen.