293
JOHN OF HAZELGREEN
JOHN OF HAZELGREEN—A
[_]
Elizabeth Cochrane's MS., p. 126.
1
Into a sweet May morning,
As the sun clearly shone,
I heard a propper damsell
Making a heavy moan;
Making a heavy moan,
I marvelled what she did mean,
And it was for a gentleman,
Sir John of Hasillgreen.
2
‘What aileth thee now, bony maid,
To mourn so sore into the tide?
O happy were the man,’ he sayes,
‘That had thee to his bride,
To ly down by his side;
Then he were not to mean;’
But still she let the tears down fall
For pleasant Hasilgreen.
3
‘Oh what for a man is Hasillgreen?
Sweet heart, pray tell to me.’
‘He is a propper gentleman,
Dwels in the South Countrie;
With shoulders broad and arms long,
And comely to be seen;
His hairs are like the threeds of gold,
My pleasant Hasilgreen.’
4
‘Now Hasilgreen is married,
Let all this talking be.’
‘If Hasilgreen be married,
This day then woe to me;
For I may sigh and sob no more,
But close my weeping een,
And hold my peace and cry no more,
But dy for Hasilgreen.’
5
‘Will you let Hasilgreen alone,
And go along with me?
I'll marry you on my eldest son,
Make you a gay lady.’
‘Make me a gay lady?’ she sayes,
‘I am a maid too mean;
I'll rather stay at home,’ she cries,
‘And dy for Hasilgreen.’
6
He takes this pretty maid him behind
And fast he spurred the horse,
And they're away to Bigger toun,
Then in to Biggar Cross.
Their lodging was far sought,
And so was it foreseen;
But still she let the tears doun fall
For pleasant Hasillgreen.
7
He's ta'en this pretty maid by the hand,
And he is doun the toun;
He bought for her a pettycoat,
Yea, and a trailing goun;
A silken kell fitt for her head,
Laid oer with silver sheen;
But still she let the tears doun fall
For pleasant Hasilgreen.
8
He's taen this bony mey him behind,
And he is to the Place,
Where there was mirth and merryness,
And ladyes fair of face;
And ladyes fair of face,
Right seemly to be seen,
But still she let the tears doun fall
For pleasant Hasilgreen.
9
Young Hasilgreen ran hastilie
To welcome his father dear;
He's ta'en that pretty maid in his arms,
And kist off her falling tear:
‘O bony mey, now for thy sake
I would be rent and rien;
I would give all my father's lands
To have thee in Hasilgreen.’
10
‘O hold your tongue now, son,’ he sayes,
‘Let no more talking be;
This maid has come right far from home
This day to visit thee.
This day should been your wedding-day,
It shall be thy bridall-een,
And thou's get all thy father's lands,
And dwell in Hasillgreen.’
Jock o Hazelgreen
JOHN OF HAZELGREEN—B
[_]
Kinloch's MSS, VII, 135; from the recitation of Jenny
Watson, Lanark, 24 April, 1826.
1
It was on a morning early,
Before day-licht did appear,
I heard a pretty damsel
Making a heavy bier;
Making a heavy bier,
I wonderd what she did mean;
But ay the tears they rappit doun,
Crying, O Jock o Hazelgreen!
2
‘O whare is this Hazelgreen, maid?
That I may him see.’
‘He is a ticht and a proper man,
Lives in the South Cuntree.
His shoulders broad, his arms lang,
O he's comely to be seen!’—
But ay the tears they drappit doun
For Jock o Hazelgreen.
3
‘Will ye gang wi me, fair maid?
[OMITTED]
And I'll marry ye on my son,’
[OMITTED]
‘Afore I'd go along wi you,
To be married on your son,
I'd rather choose to stay at hame,
And die for Hazelgreen.’
4
But he has tane her up behind,
And spurred on his horse,
Till ance he cam to Embro toun,
And lichted at the corss.
He bought to her a petticoat,
Besides a handsome goun;
He tied a silver belt about her waist,
Worth thrice three hunder pund.
5
And whan he cam to Hazelyetts,
He lichted doun therein;
Monie war the brave ladies there,
Monie ane to be seen.
She lichted doun amang them aw,
She seemed to be the queen;
But ay the tears they rappit doun
For Jock o Hazelgreen.
6
Young Hazelgreen took her by the hand
And led her out and in:
Said, Bonnie lady, for your sake,
I could be baith rent and rien;
I wad gie aw my lands and rents,
Tho I had kingdoms three,
If I could hae the great pleasure
To enjoy thy fair bodie.
7
‘No more of this,’ his father said,
‘Of your mourning let abee;
I brought the damsel far frae hame,
She's thrice as wae for thee.
The morn is your bridal-day,
The nicht is your bridal-een,
And I'll gie you aw my lands and rents,
My pleasing son, Hazelgreen.’
John o Hazelgreen
JOHN OF HAZELGREEN—C
1
As I gaed out in a May morning,
Afore that I could see,
And there I heard a pretty fair may
Making sweet melodie.
She was making sic melodie,
I wonderd what she could mean;
But ay she sang and sang about
Sweet John o Hazelgreen.
2
‘O what na man is Hazelgreen?
Fair may, pray tell to me.’
‘He is a stout and a tall young man
As in a' the South Countrie.
He is a stout and a tall young man,
And comely to be seen;
But still O I maun weep and wail
For John o Hazelgreen.’
3
‘Hold your tongue, fair maid,’ he says,
‘And let your weeping alane;
I'll marry you to my eldest son,
And you shall be ca'd my dame.’
4
He has tane her on ahint him,
And fast he spurred the steed;
For Edinbro town he there was bound,
Where they soon came wi speed.
7
He's tane her to the Luckenbooths,
Coft her a braw new gown,
A handsome feather for her hat,
And a pair o silken shoon.
8
He has tane the fair may up again,
And fast awa rode he;
For Hazelgreen now he was bound,
Her lodging there to be.
9
She jumped aff frae ahint him,
As fair as any queen;
‘Come down, come down, Lord John,’ he says,
‘And welcome your lady hame.
10
‘It is the tall and comely youth,
Sweet John o Hazelgreen;
If we canna see it bridal-day,
It shall be bridal-een.’
John o Hazelgreen; or,
Jock of Hazelgreen
JOHN OF HAZELGREEN—D
[_]
a. Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 253.
b. Chambers, Scottish Ballads, p. 319.
1
As I went forth to take the air
Intill an evening clear,
And there I spied a lady fair,
Making a heavy bier;
Making a heavy bier, I say,
But and a piteous meen,
And aye she sighd, and said, Alas,
For John o Hazelgreen!
2
The sun was sinking in the west,
The stars were shining clear,
When thro the thickets o the wood,
A gentleman did appear.
Says, Who has done you the wrong, fair maid,
And left you here alane?
Or who has kissd your lovely lips,
That ye ca Hazelgreen?
3
‘Hold your tongue, kind sir,’ she said,
‘And do not banter so;
How will ye add affliction
Unto a lover's woe?
For none's done me the wrong,’ she said,
‘Nor left me here alane;
Nor none has kissd my lovely lips,
That I ca Hazelgreen.’
4
‘Why weep ye by the tide, lady?
Why weep ye by the tide?
How blythe and happy might he be
Gets you to be his bride!
Gets you to be his bride, fair maid,
And him I'll no bemean;
But when I take my words again,
Whom call ye Hazelgreen?
5
‘What like a man was Hazelgreen?
Will ye show him to me?’
‘He is a comely, proper youth
I in my sleep did see;
Wi arms tall, and fingers small,
He's comely to be seen;’
And aye she loot the tears down fall
For John o Hazelgreen.
6
‘If ye'll forsake young Hazelgreen,
And go along with me,
I'll wed you to my eldest son,
Make you a lady free.’
‘It's for to wed your eldest son
I am a maid oer mean;
I'll rather stay at home,’ she says
‘And die for Hazelgreen.’
7
‘If ye'll forsake young Hazelgreen,
And go along with me,
I'll wed you to my second son,
And your weight o gowd I'll gie.’
‘It's for to wed your second son
I am a maid oer mean;
I'll rather stay at home,’ she says,
‘And die for Hazelgreen.’
8
Then he's taen out a siller comb,
Combd down her yellow hair;
And lookëd in a diamond bright,
To see if she were fair.
‘My girl, ye do all maids surpass
That ever I have seen;
Cheer up your heart, my lovely lass,
And hate young Hazelgreen.’
9
‘Young Hazelgreen he is my love,
And ever mair shall be;
I'll nae forsake young Hazelgreen
For a' the gowd ye'll gie.’
But aye she sighd, and said, Alas!
And made a piteous meen,
And aye she loot the tears down fa
For John o Hazelgreen.
10
He lookëd high, and lighted low,
Set her upon his horse;
And they rode on to Edinburgh,
To Edinburgh's own cross.
And when she in that city was,
She lookd like ony queen:
‘'Tis a pity such a lovely lass
Shoud love young Hazelgreen.’
11
‘Young Hazelgreen, he is my love,
And ever mair shall be;
I'll nae forsake young Hazelgreen
For a' the gowd ye'll gie.’
And aye she sighd, and said, Alas!
And made a piteous meen,
And aye she loot the tears down fa
For John o Hazelgreen.
12
‘Now hold your tongue, my well-fard maid,
Lat a' your mourning be,
And a' endeavours I shall try
To bring that youth to thee,
If ye'll tell me where your love stays,
His stile and proper name.’
‘He's laird o Taperbank,’ she says,
‘His stile, Young Hazelgreen.’
13
Then he has coft for that lady
A fine silk riding-gown,
Likewise he coft for that lady
A steed, and set her on;
Wi menji feathers in her hat,
Silk stockings and siller sheen,
And they are on to Taperbank,
Seeking young Hazelgreen.
14
They nimbly rode along the way,
And gently spurrd their horse,
Till they rode on to Hazelgreen,
To Hazelgreen's own close.
Then forth he came, young Hazelgreen,
To welcome his father free:
‘You're welcome here, my father dear,
And a' your companie.’
15
But when he lookd oer his shoulder,
A light laugh then gae he;
Says, If I getna this lady,
It's for her I must die.
I must confess this is the maid
I ance saw in a dream,
A walking thro a pleasant shade,
As fair's a cypress queen.
16
‘Now hold your tongue, young Hazelgreen,
Lat a' your folly be;
If ye be wae for that lady,
She's thrice as wae for thee.
She's thrice as wae for thee, my son,
As bitter doth complain;
Well is she worthy o the rigs
That lie on Hazelgreen.’
17
He's taen her in his arms twa,
Led her thro bower and ha:
‘Cheer up your heart, my dearest dear,
Ye're flower out-oer them a'.
This night shall be our wedding-een,
The morn we'll say, Amen;
Ye'se never mair hae cause to mourn,
Ye're lady o Hazelgreen.’
JOHN OF HAZELGREEN—E
[_]
a. “Got in the South County by Mr Pringle:” Kinloch's
MSS, I, 321. b. Kinloch's MSS, VII, 2.
1
‘Why weep ye by the tide, ladye?
Why weep ye by the tide?
I'll wed ye to my youngest son,
And ye sall be his bride.
And ye sall be his bride, ladye,
Sae comely to be seen;’
But aye she loot the tears down fa
For John o Hazelgreen.
2
‘O whaten a man is Hazelgreen?
I pray thee tell to me.’
‘O there's not a handsomer gentleman
In a' the South Countrie.
His arms are long, his shoulders broad,
Sae comely to be seen!’
And aye she loot the tears down fa
For John o Hazelgreen.
