A Collection of Ballads, Andrew Lang [english love story books txt] 📗

knight may swim.”

The knight spurred on his tall black steed; The lady spurred on her brown; And fast they rade unto the flood, And fast they baith swam down.

“The water weets my tae,” she said; “The water weets my knee, And hold up my bridle reins, sir knight, For the sake of Our Ladye.”

“If I would help thee now,” he said, “It were a deadly sin, For I’ve sworn neir to trust a fair may’s word, Till the water weets her chin.”

“Oh, the water weets my waist,” she said, “Sae does it weet my skin, And my aching heart rins round about, The burn maks sic a din.

“The water is waxing deeper still, Sae does it wax mair wide; And aye the farther that we ride on, Farther off is the other side.

“O help me now, thou false, false knight, Have pity on my youth, For now the water jawes owre my head, And it gurgles in my mouth.”

The knight turned right and round about, All in the middle stream; And he stretched out his head to that lady, But loudly she did scream.

“O this is hallow-morn,” he said, “And it is your bridal-day, But sad would be that gay wedding, If bridegroom and bride were away.

“And ride on, ride on, proud Margaret! Till the water comes o’er your bree, For the bride maun ride deep, and deeper yet, Wha rides this ford wi’ me.

“Turn round, turn round, proud Margaret! Turn ye round, and look on me, Thou hast killed a true knight under trust, And his ghost now links on with thee.”

 

Ballad: Rose The Red And White Lily

 

(Child, Part IV.)

O Rose the Red and White Lilly, Their mother dear was dead, And their father married an ill woman, Wishd them twa little guede.

Yet she had twa as fu fair sons As eer brake manis bread, And the tane of them loed her White Lilly, And the tither lood Rose the Red.

O, biggit ha they a bigly bowr, And strawn it oer wi san, And there was mair mirth i the ladies’ bowr Than in a’ their father’s lan.

But out it spake their step-mother, Wha stood a little foreby: “I hope to live and play the prank Sal gar your loud sang ly.”

She’s calld upon her eldest son: “Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my eldest son, That ye maun sail the sea.”

“Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to Rose the Red Than ye ha been to me.”

“O had your tongue, my eldest son, For sma sal be her part; You’ll nae get a kiss o her comely mouth Gin your very fair heart should break.”

She’s calld upon her youngest son: “Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my youngest son, That ye maun sail the sea.”

“Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to White Lilly Than ye ha been to me.”

“O haud your tongue, my youngest son, For sma sall be her part; You’ll neer get a kiss o her comely mouth Tho your very fair heart should break.”

When Rose the Red and White Lilly Saw their twa loves were gane, Then stopped ha they their loud, loud sang, And tane up the still moarnin; And their step-mother stood listnin by, To hear the ladies’ mean.

Then out it spake her, White Lily; “My sister, we’ll be gane; Why shou’d we stay in Barnsdale, To waste our youth in pain?”

Then cutted ha they their green cloathing, A little below their knee; And sae ha they their yallow hair, A little aboon there bree; And they’ve doen them to haely chapel Was christened by Our Ladye.

There ha they changed their ain twa names, Sae far frae ony town; And the tane o them hight Sweet Willy, And the tither o them Roge the Roun.

Between this twa a vow was made, An they sware it to fulfil; That at three blasts o a buglehorn, She’d come her sister till.

Now Sweet Willy’s gane to the kingis court, Her true-love for to see, And Roge the Roun to good green wood, Brown Robin’s man to be.

As it fell out upon a day, They a did put the stane; Full seven foot ayont them a She gard the puttin-stane gang.

She leand her back against an oak, And gae a loud Ohone! Then out it spake him Brown Robin, “But that’s a woman’s moan!”

“Oh, ken ye by my red rose lip? Or by my yallow hair; Or ken ye by my milk-white breast? For ye never saw it bare?”

“I ken no by your red rose lip, Nor by your yallow hair; Nor ken I by your milk-white breast, For I never saw it bare; But, come to your bowr whaever sae likes, Will find a ladye there.”

“Oh, gin ye come to my bowr within, Thro fraud, deceit, or guile, Wi this same bran that’s in my han I swear I will thee kill.”

“But I will come thy bowr within, An spear nae leave,” quoth he; “An this same bran that’s i my ban, I sall ware back on the.”

About the tenth hour of the night, The ladie’s bowr door was broken, An eer the first hour of the day The bonny knave bairn was gotten.

When days were gane and months were run, The ladye took travailing, And sair she cry’d for a bow’r-woman, For to wait her upon.

Then out it spake him, Brown Robin: “Now what needs a’ this din? For what coud any woman do But I coud do the same?”

“Twas never my mither’s fashion,” she says, “Nor sall it ever be mine, That belted knights shoud eer remain Where ladies dreed their pine.

“But ye take up that buglehorn, An blaw a blast for me; I ha a brother i the kingis court Will come me quickly ti.”

“O gin ye ha a brither on earth That ye love better nor me, Ye blaw the horn yoursel,” he says, “For ae blast I winna gie.”

She’s set the horn till her mouth, And she’s blawn three blasts sae shrill; Sweet Willy heard i the kingis court, And came her quickly till.

Then up it started Brown Robin, An an angry man was he: “There comes nae man this bowr within But first must fight wi me.”

O they hae fought that bowr within Till the sun was gaing down, Till drops o blude frae Rose the Red Cam trailing to the groun.

She leand her back against the wa, Says, “Robin, let a’ be; For it is a lady born and bred That’s foughten sae well wi thee.”

O seven foot he lap a back; Says, “Alas, and wae is me! I never wisht in a’ my life, A woman’s blude to see; An ae for the sake of ae fair maid Whose name was White Lilly.”

Then out it spake her White Lilly, An a hearty laugh laugh she: “She’s lived wi you this year an mair, Tho ye kenntna it was she.”

Now word has gane thro a’ the lan, Before a month was done, That Brown Robin’s man, in good green wood, Had born a bonny young son.

The word has gane to the kingis court, An to the king himsel; “Now, by my fay,” the king could say, “The like was never heard tell!”

Then out it spake him Bold Arthur, An a hearty laugh laugh he: “I trow some may has playd the loun, And fled her ain country.”

“Bring me my steed,” then cry’d the king, “My bow and arrows keen; I’ll ride mysel to good green wood, An see what’s to be seen.”

“An’t please your grace,” said Bold Arthur, “My liege, I’ll gang you wi, An try to fin a little foot-page, That’s strayd awa frae me.”

O they’ve hunted i the good green wood The buck but an the rae, An they drew near Brown Robin’s bowr, About the close of day.

Then out it spake the king in hast, Says, “Arthur look an see Gin that be no your little foot-page That leans against yon tree.”

Then Arthur took his buglehorn, An blew a blast sae shrill; Sweet Willy started at the sound, An ran him quickly till.

“O wanted ye your meat, Willy? Or wanted ye your fee? Or gat ye ever an angry word, That ye ran awa frae me?”

“I wanted nought, my master dear; To me ye ay was good; I came but to see my ae brother, That wons in this green wood.”

Then out it spake the king again, Says, “Bonny boy, tell to me, Wha lives into yon bigly bowr, Stands by yon green oak tree?”

“Oh, pardon me,” says Sweet Willie, “My liege, I dare no tell; An I pray you go no near that bowr, For fear they do you fell.”

“Oh, haud your tongue, my bonny boy, For I winna be said nay; But I will gang that bowr within, Betide me weal or wae.”

They’ve lighted off their milk-white steeds, An saftly enterd in, And there they saw her White Lilly, Nursing her bonny young son.

“Now, by the rood,” the king coud say, “This is a comely sight; I trow, instead of a forrester’s man, This is a lady bright!”

Then out it spake her, Rose the Red, An fell low down on her knee: “Oh, pardon us, my gracious liege, An our story I’ll tell thee.

“Our father was a wealthy lord, That wond in Barnsdale; But we had a wicked step-mother, That wrought us meickle bale.

“Yet she had twa as fu fair sons As ever the sun did see, An the tane of them lood my sister dear, An the tother said he lood me.”

Then out it spake him Bold Arthur, As by the king he stood: “Now, by the faith o my body, This shoud be Rose the Red!”

Then in it came him Brown Robin, Frae hunting O the deer; But whan he saw the king was there, He started back for fear.

The king has taen him by the hand, An bide him naithing dread; Says, “Ye maun leave the good greenwood, Come to the court wi speed.”

Then up he took White Lilly’s son, An set him on his knee; Says—“Gin ye live to wield a bran, My bowman ye sall bee.”

The king he sent for robes of green, An girdles o shinning gold; He gart the ladies be arrayd Most comely to behold.

They’ve done them unto Mary kirk, An there gat fair wedding, An fan the news spread oer the lan, For joy the bells did ring.

Then out it spake her Rose the Red, An a hearty laugh laugh she: “I wonder what would our step-dame say, Gin she his sight did see!”

 

Ballad: The Battle Of Harlaw—Evergreen Version

 

(Child, vol. vii. Early Edition, Appendix.)

Frae Dunidier as I cam throuch, Doun by the hill of Banochie, Allangst the lands of Garioch. Grit pitie was to heir and se The noys and dulesum hermonie, That evir that dreiry day did daw! Cryand the corynoch on hie, Alas! alas! for the Harlaw.

I marvlit what the matter meant; All folks were in a fiery fariy: I wist nocht wha was fae or freind, Yet quietly I did me carrie. But sen the days of auld King Hairy, Sic slauchter was not hard nor sene, And thair I had nae tyme to tairy, For bissiness in Aberdene.

Thus as I walkit on the way, To Inverury as I went, I met a man, and bad him stay, Requeisting him to mak me quaint Of the beginning and the event That happenit thair