A Collection of Ballads Part 11

And they twa met, and they twa plat, And fain they wad be near; And a' the warld might ken right weel, They were twa lovers dear.

But by and rade the Black Douglas, And wow but he was rough!

For he pull'd up the bonny brier, An flang't in St. Marie's Loch.

Ballad: The Bonny Hind

(Child, vol. ii.)

O May she comes, and may she goes, Down by yon gardens green, And there she spied a gallant squire As squire had ever been.

And may she comes, and may she goes, Down by yon hollin tree, And there she spied a brisk young squire, And a brisk young squire was he.

"Give me your green manteel, fair maid, Give me your maidenhead; Gif ye winna gie me your green manteel, Gi me your maidenhead."

He has taen her by the milk-white hand, And softly laid her down, And when he's lifted her up again Given her a silver kaim.

"Perhaps there may be bairns, kind sir, Perhaps there may be nane; But if you be a courtier, You'll tell to me your name."

"I am na courtier, fair maid, But new come frae the sea; I am nae courtier, fair maid, But when I court'ith thee.

"They call me Jack when I'm abroad, Sometimes they call me John; But when I'm in my father's bower Jock Randal is my name."

"Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny lad, Sae loud's I hear ye lee!

For I'm Lord Randal's yae daughter, He has nae mair nor me."

"Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny may, Sae loud's I hear ye lee!

For I'm Lord Randal's yae yae son, Just now come oer the sea."

She's putten her hand down by her spare And out she's taen a knife, And she has putn't in her heart's bluid, And taen away her life.

And he's taen up his bonny sister, With the big tear in his een, And he has buried his bonny sister Amang the hollins green.

And syne he's hyed him oer the dale, His father dear to see: "Sing O and O for my bonny hind, Beneath yon hollin tree!"

"What needs you care for your bonny hyn?

For it you needna care; There's aught score hyns in yonder park, And five score hyns to spare.

"Fourscore of them are siller-shod, Of thae ye may get three;"

"But O and O for my bonny hyn, Beneath yon hollin tree!"

"What needs you care for your bonny hyn?

For it you needna care; Take you the best, gi me the warst, Since plenty is to spare."

"I care na for your hyns, my lord, I care na for your fee; But O and O for my bonny hyn, Beneath the hollin tree!"

"O were ye at your sister's bower, Your sister fair to see, Ye'll think na mair o your bonny hyn Beneath the hollin tree."

Ballad: Young b.i.+.c.ham

(Child, vol. ii.)

In London city was b.i.+.c.ham born, He longd strange countries for to see, But he was taen by a savage Moor, Who handld him right cruely.

For thro his shoulder he put a bore, An thro the bore has pitten a tree, And he's gard him draw the carts o wine, Where horse and oxen had wont to be.

He's casten [him] in a dungeon deep, Where he coud neither hear nor see; He's shut him up in a prison strong, An he's handld him right cruely.

O this Moor he had but ae daughter, I wot her name was Shusy Pye; She's doen her to the prison-house, And she's calld young b.i.+.c.ham one word by.

"O hae ye ony lands or rents, Or citys in your ain country, Coud free you out of prison strong, An coud maintain a lady free?"

O London city is my own, An other citys twa or three, Coud loose me out o prison strong, An could maintain a lady free."

O she has bribed her father's men Wi meikle goud and white money, She's gotten the key o the prison doors, And she has set Young b.i.+.c.ham free.

She's gi'n him a loaf o good white bread, But an a flask o Spanish wine, An she bad him mind on the ladie's love That sae kindly freed him out o pine.

"Go set your foot on good s.h.i.+p-board, An haste you back to your ain country, An before that seven years has an end, Come back again, love, and marry me."

It was long or seven years had an end She longd fu sair her love to see; She's set her foot on good s.h.i.+p-board, An turnd her back on her ain country.

She's saild up, so has she down, Till she came to the other side; She's landed at Young b.i.+.c.ham's gates, An I hop this day she sal be his bride.

"Is this Young b.i.+.c.ham's gates?" says she.

"Or is that n.o.ble prince within?"

"He's up the stair wi his bonny bride, An monny a lord and lady wi him."

"O has he taen a bonny bride, An has he clean forgotten me?"

An sighing said that gay lady, "I wish I were in my ain country!"

She's pitten her ban in her pocket, An gin the porter guineas three; Says, "Take ye that, ye proud porter, An bid the bridegroom speak to me."

O whan the porter came up the stair, He's fa'n low down upon his knee: "Won up, won up, ye proud porter, And what makes a' this courtesy?"

"O I've been porter at your gates This mair nor seven years an three, But there is a lady at them now The like of whom I never did see.

"For on every finger she has a ring, An on the mid-finger she has three, An there's as meikle goud aboon her brow As woud buy an earldom o lan to me."

Then up it started Young b.i.+.c.ham, An sware so loud by Our Lady, "It can be nane but Shusy Pye That has come oor the sea to me."

O quickly ran he down the stair, O fifteen steps he has made but three, He's tane his bonny love in his arms An a wot he kissd her tenderly.