NOTES
ON
KEMPION.


On Estmere crags, when ye them climb.—P. 26. v. 2.

If by Estmere crags we are to understand the rocky cliffs of Northumberland, in opposition to Westmoreland, we may bring our scene of action near Bamborough, and thereby almost identify the tale of Kempion with that of the Laidley Worm of Spindleston, to which it bears so strong a resemblance.

I weird ye to a fiery beast.—P. 26. v. 3.

Our ideas of dragons and serpents are probably derived from the Scandinavians. The legends of Regnar Lodbrog, and of the huge snake in the Edda, by whose folds the world is encircled, are well known. Griffins and dragons were fabled, by the Danes, as watching over, and defending, hoards of gold.—Bartholin. de caus. cont. mortis, p. 490. Saxo Grammaticus, lib. 2. The Edda also mentions one Fafner, who, transformed into a serpent, brooded over his hidden treasures. From these authorities, and that of Herodotus, our Milton draws his simile—

As when a Gryphon, through the wilderness,
With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale,
Pursues the Arimaspian, who, by stealth,
Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd
The guarded gold.
O was it warwolf in the wood?—P. 29. v. 4.

Warwolf, or Lycanthropus, signifies a magician, possessing the power of transforming himself into a wolf, for the purpose of ravage and devastation. It is probable the word was first used symbolically, to distinguish those, who, by means of intoxicating herbs, could work their passions into a frantic state, and throw themselves upon their enemies with the fury and temerity of ravenous wolves. Such were the noted Berserker of the Scandinavians, who, in their fits of voluntary frenzy, were wont to perform the most astonishing exploits of strength, and to perpetrate the most horrible excesses, although, in their natural state, they neither were capable of greater crimes nor exertions than ordinary men. This quality they ascribed to Odin. "Odinus efficere valuit, ut hostes ipsius inter bellandum cæci vel surdi vel attoniti fierent, armaque illorum instar baculorum obtusa essent. Sui vero milites sine loricis incedebant, ac instar canum vel luporum furebant, scuta sua arrodentes: et robusti ut ursi vel tauri, adversarios trucidabant: ipsis vero neque ignis neque ferrum nocuit. Ea qualitas vocatur furor Berserkicus."—Snorro Sturleson, quoted by Bartholin. de causis contemptæ mortis, p. 344. For a fuller account of these frantic champions, see the Hervorar Saga published by Suhm; also the Christni Saga, and most of the ancient Norwegian histories and romances. Camden explains the tales of the Irish, concerning men transformed into wolves, upon nearly the same principle.—Gough's edition of Camden's Britannia, Vol. III. p. 520.

But, in process of time, the transformation into a wolf was believed to be real, and to affect the body as well as the mind; and to such transformations our faithful Gervase of Tilbury bears evidence, as an eye-witness. "Vidimus frequenter in Anglia per lunationes homines in lupos mutari, quod hominum genus Gerulfos Galli vocunt, Angli vero WER-WLF dicunt. Wer enim Anglice virum sonat, WLF lupum." Ot. Imp. De oculis apertis post peccatum. The learned commentators, upon the art of sorcery, differ widely concerning the manner in which the arch fiend effects this change upon the persons of his vassals; whether by surrounding their bodies with a sort of pellice of condensed air, having the form of an wolf; or whether by some delusion, affecting the eyes of the spectators; or, finally, by an actual corporeal transformation. The curious reader may consult Delrii Disquisitiones Magicæ, p. 188; and (if he pleases) Evvichius de natura Sagarum.—Fincelius, lib. 2. de Mirac.—Remigius. lib. 2. de Dæmonolat.—Binsfeld. de confession, maleficarum. Not to mention Spondanus, Bodinus, Peucerus, Philippus Camerarius, Condronchus, Petrus Thyræus, Bartholomeus Spineus, Sir George Mackenzie, and King James I., with the sapient Monsieur Oufle of Bayle. The editor presumes, it is only since the extirpation of wolves, that our British sorceresses have adopted the disguise of hares, cats, and such more familiar animals.

A wild story of a warwolf, or rather a war-bear, is told in Torfœus' History of Hrolfe Kraka. As the original is a scarce book, little known in this country, some readers may be interested by a short analysis of the tale.

Hringo, king of Upland, had an only son, called Biorno, the most beautiful and most gallant of the Norwegian youth. At an advanced period of life, the king became enamoured of a "witch lady," whom he chose for his second wife. A mutual and tender affection had, from infancy, subsisted betwixt Biorno, and Bera, the lovely daughter of an ancient warrior. But the new queen cast upon her step-son an eye of incestuous passion; to gratify which, she prevailed upon her husband, when he set out upon one of those piratical expeditions, which formed the summer campaign of a Scandinavian monarch, to leave the prince at home. In the absence of Hringo, she communicated to Biorno her impure affection, and was repulsed with disdain and violence. The rage of the weird step-mother was boundless. "Hence to the woods!" she exclaimed, striking the prince with a glove of wolf-skin; "Hence to the woods! subsist only on thy father's herds; live pursuing, and die pursued!" From this time the prince Biorno was no more seen, and the herdsmen of the king's cattle soon observed, that astonishing devastation was nightly made among their flocks, by a black bear, of immense size, and unusual ferocity. Every attempt to snare or destroy this animal was found vain; and much was the unavailing regret for the absence of Biorno, whose delight had been in extirpating beasts of prey. Bera, the faithful mistress of the young prince, added her tears to the sorrow of the people. As she was indulging her melancholy, apart from society, she was alarmed by the approach of the monstrous bear, which was the dread of the whole country. Unable to escape, she waited its approach, in expectation of instant death; when, to her astonishment, the animal fawned upon her, rolled himself at her feet, and regarded her with eyes, in which, spite of the horrible transformation, she still recognized the glances of her lost lover. Bera had the courage to follow the bear to his cavern, where, during certain hours, the spell permitted him to resume his human shape. Her love overcame her repugnance at so strange a mode of life, and she continued to inhabit the cavern of Biorno, enjoying his society during the periods of his freedom from enchantment. One day, looking sadly upon his wife, "Bera," said the prince, "the end of my life approaches. My flesh will soon serve for the repast of my father and his courtiers. But, do thou beware lest either the threats or entreaties of my diabolical step-mother induce thee to partake of the horrid banquet. So shalt thou safely bring forth three sons, who shall be the wonder of the North." The spell now operated, and the unfortunate prince sallied from his cavern to prowl among the herds. Bera followed him, weeping, and at a distance. The clamour of the chace was now heard. It was the old king, who, returned from his piratical excursion, had collected a strong force to destroy the devouring animal which ravaged his country. The poor bear defended himself gallantly, slaying many dogs, and some huntsmen. At length, wearied out, he sought protection at the feet of his father. But his supplicating gestures were in vain, and the eyes of paternal affection proved more dull than those of love. Biorno died by the lance of his father, and his flesh was prepared for the royal banquet. Bera was recognised, and hurried into the queen's presence. The sorceress, as Biorno had predicted, endeavoured to prevail upon Bera to eat of what was then esteemed a regal dainty. Entreaties and threats being in vain, force was, by the queen's command, employed for this purpose, and Bera was compelled to swallow one morsel of the bear's flesh. A second was put into her mouth, but she had an opportunity of putting it aside. She was then dismissed to her father's house. Here, in process of time, she was delivered of three sons, two of whom were affected variously, in person and disposition, by the share their mother had been compelled to take in the feast of the king. The eldest, from his middle downwards, resembled an elk, whence he derived the name of Elgfrod. He proved a man of uncommon strength, but of savage manners, and adopted the profession of a robber. Thorer, the second son of Bera, was handsome and well shaped, saving that he had the foot of a dog; from which he obtained the appellation of Houndsfoot. But Bodvar, the third son, was a model of perfection in mind and body. He revenged upon the necromantic queen the death of his father, and became the most celebrated champion of his age.

Historia Hrolfi Krakæ, Haffniæ, 1715.

FOOTNOTES:

[4]

Poich' ebbe il verso Brandimarte letto,
La lapida pesante in aria alzava:
Ecco fuor una serpe insin' al petto,
La qual, forte stridendo, zufolava,
Di spaventoso, e terribil' aspetto,
A prendo il muso gran denti mostrava,
De' quali il cavalier non si fidando,
Si trasse a dietro, et mise mano al brando.
Ma quella Donna gridava "non fate"
Col viso smorto, e grido tremebondo,
"Non far, che ci farai pericolare,
E cadrem' tutti quanti nel profondo:
A te convien quella serpe baciare,
O far pensier di non esser' al Mondo,
Accostar la tua bocca con la sua,
O perduta tener la vita tua."
"Come? non vedi, che i denti degrigna,
Che pajon fatti a posta a spiccar' nasi,
E fammi un certo viso de matrigna,"
Disse il Guerrier, "ch'io me spavento quassi."
"Anzi t' invita con faccia benigna;"
Disse la Donna, "e molti altri rimasi
Per vilta sono a questa sepolture:
Or la t' accosta, e non aver paura."
Il cavalier s' accosta, ma di passo,
Che troppo grato quel baciar non gli era,
Verso la serpe chinandosi basso,
Gli parvo tanto orrenda, e tanto fera,
Che venne in viso freddo, com' un sasso;
E disse "si fortuna vuol' ch'io pera,
Fia tanto un altra volta, quanto addeso
Ma cagion dar non me ne voglio io stesso."
"Fuss' io certo d'andare in paradiso,
Come son' certo, chinandomi un poco,
Che quella bestia mi s'avvento al viso,
E mi piglia nel naso, o altro loco:
Egli e proprio cosi, com' io m'avviso,
Ch' altri ch'io stato e colto a questo gioco,
E che costei mi da questo conforto
Per vindicarsi di colui, ch'ho morto."[5]
Cosi dicendo, a rinculare attende,
Deliberato piu non s'accostare:
La Donna si dispera, e lo reprende,
"Ah codardo," dicea, "che credi fare?
Perche tanta vilta, l'alma t'offende,
Che ti fara alla fin mal capitare?
Infinita paura e poca fede,
La salute gli mostro, e non mi crede."
Punto il Guerrier de questi agre parole,
Torna de nuovo ver la sepoltura,
Tinsegli in rose il color de viole,
In vergogna mutata la paura:
Pur stando ancor' fra due, vuole, e non vuole,
Un pensier lo spaventa, un l'assicura
Al fin tra l'animoso, e'l disperato,
A lei s'accosta, ed halle un bacio dato.
Un ghiaccio proprio gli parse a toccare
La bocca, che parea prima di foco:
La serpe se commincia a tramutare
E diventa donzella a poco a poco:
Febosilla costei si fa chiamare,
Un fata, che fece quel bel loco,
E quel giardino, e quella sepoltura,
Ove gran tempo e stato in pena dura, &c.

[5] Un cavalier occiso per Brandimarte nel entrare del palazzo incantato.

[6] An altar, dedicated to Sylvan Mars, was found in a glen in Weardale, in the bishopric of Durham. From the following votive inscription, it appears to have been erected by C. T. V. Micianus, a Roman general, upon taking an immense boar, which none of his predecessors could destroy:

"Silvano invicto sacrum. C. Tetius Veturius Micianus Præf. Alae Sebosinae ob aprum eximiæ formæ captum, quem multi antecessores ejus prædari non potuerunt, Votum solvens lubenter possuit."

Lamb's Notes on Battle of Flodden, 1774, p. 67.

[7] Weird—From the German auxiliary verb werden, "to become."

[8] St Mungo—Saint Kentigern.


LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNIE.

NOW

FIRST PUBLISHED IN A PERFECT STATE.


This ballad is now, for the first time, published in a perfect state. A fragment, comprehending the 2d, 4th, 5th, and 6th verses, as also the 17th, has appeared in several collections. The present copy is chiefly taken from the recitation of an old woman, residing near Kirkhill, in West Lothian; the same from whom were obtained the variations in the tale of Tamlane, and the fragment of the Wife of Usher's Well, which is the next in order.

The tale is much the same with the Breton romance, called Lay le Frain, or the Song of the Ash. Indeed, the editor is convinced, that the farther our researches are extended, the more we shall see ground to believe, that the romantic ballads of later times are, for the most part, abridgments of the ancient metrical romances, narrated in a smoother stanza, and more modern language. A copy of the ancient romance, alluded to, is preserved in the invaluable collection (W. 4. 1.) of the Advocates' Library, and begins thus:

We redeth oft and findeth ywrite
And this clerkes wele it wite
Layes that ben in harping
Ben yfound of ferli thing
Sum beth of wer and sum of wo
Sum of joye and mirthe also
And sum of trecherie and of gile
Of old aventours that fel while
And sum of bourdes and ribaudy
And many ther beth of faery
Of al thinges that men seth
Maist o' love forsoth yai beth
In Breteyne bi hold time
This layes were wrought so seithe this rime
When kinges might our y here
Of ani mervailes that ther wer
They token a harp in glee and game
And maked a lay and gaf it name
Now of this aventours that weren y falle
Y can tel sum ac nought alle
Ac herkeneth Lordinges sothe to sain
I chil you tel Lay le Frain
Bifel a cas in Breteyne
Whereof was made Lay le Frain
In Ingliche for to tellen y wis
Of ane asche forsothe it is
On ane ensammple fair with alle
That sum time was bi falle &c.

LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNIE.


"Its narrow, narrow, make your bed,
"And learn to lie your lane;
"For I'm ga'n o'er the sea, Fair Annie,
"A braw bride to bring hame.
"Wi' her I will get gowd and gear;
"Wi' you I ne'er got nane.
"But wha will bake my bridal bread,
"Or brew my bridal ale?
"And wha will welcome my brisk bride,
"That I bring o'er the dale?"
"Its I will bake your bridal bread,
"And brew your bridal ale;
"And I will welcome your brisk bride,
"That you bring o'er the dale."
"But she that welcomes my brisk bride,
"Maun gang like maiden fair;
"She maun lace on her robe sae jimp,
"And braid her yellow hair."
"But how can I gang maiden-like,
"When maiden I am nane?
"Have I not borne seven sons to thee,
"And am with child again?"
She's ta'en her young son in her arms,
Another in her hand;
And she's up to the highest tower,
To see him come to land.
"Come up, come up, my eldest son,
"And look o'er yon sea-strand,
"And see your father's new-come bride,
"Before she come to land."
"Come down, come down, my mother dear!
"Come frae the castle-wa'!
"I fear, if langer ye stand there,
"Ye'll let yoursell down fa'."
And she gaed down, and farther down,
Her love's ship for to see;
And the top-mast and the main-mast
Shone like the silver free.
And she's gane down, and farther down,
The bride's ship to behold;
And the top-mast and the main-mast
They shone just like the gold.
She's ta'en her seven sons in her hand;
I wot she didna fail!
She met Lord Thomas and his bride,
As they cam o'er the dale.
"You're welcome to your house, Lord Thomas;
"You're welcome to your land;
"You're welcome, with your fair ladye,
"That you lead by the hand.
"You're welcome to your ha's, ladye;
"You're welcome to your bowers;
"You're welcome to your hame, ladye:
"For a' that's here is yours."
"I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, Annie;
"Sae dearly as I thank thee;
"You're the likest to my sister, Annie,
"That ever I did see.
"There came a knight out o'er the sea,
"And steal'd my sister away;
"The shame scoup[9] in his company,
"And land where'er he gae!"
She hang ae napkin at the door,
Another in the ha';
And a' to wipe the trickling tears,
Sae fast as they did fa'.
And aye she served the lang tables,
With white bread and with wine;
And aye she drank the wan water,
To had her colour fine.[10]
And aye she served the lang tables,
With white bread and with brown;
And aye she turned her round about,
Sae fast the tears fall down.
And he's ta'en down the silk napkin,
Hung on a silver pin;
And aye he wipes the tear trickling
Adown her cheik and chin.
And aye he turned him round about,
And smil'd amang his men:
Says—"Like ye best the old ladye,
"Or her that's new come hame?"
When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And a' men bound to bed,
Lord Thomas and his new-come bride,
To their chamber they were gaed.
Annie made her bed a little forebye,
To hear what they might say;
"And ever alas!" fair Annie cried,
"That I should see this day!
"Gin my seven sons were seven young rats,
"Running on the castle-wa',
"And I were a grey cat mysell!
"I soon would worry them a'.
"Gin my seven sons were seven young hares,
"Running o'er yon lilly lee,
"And I were a grew hound mysell!
"Soon worried they a' should be."
And wae and sad fair Annie sat,
And drearie was her sang;
And ever, as she sobb'd and grat,
"Wae to the man that did the wrang!"
"My gown is on," said the new-come bride,
"My shoes are on my feet,
"And I will to fair Annie's chamber,
"And see what gars her greet.
"What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie,
"That ye make sic a moan?
"Has your wine barrels cast the girds,
"Or is your white bread gone?
"O wha was't was your father, Annie,
"Or wha was't was your mother?
"And had ye ony sister, Annie,
"Or had ye ony brother?"
"The Earl of Wemyss was my father,
"The Countess of Wemyss my mother;
"And a' the folk about the house,
"To me were sister and brother."
"If the Earl of Wemyss was your father,
"I wot sae was he mine;
"And it shall not be for lack o' gowd,
"That ye your love sall tyne.
"For I have seven ships o' mine ain,
"A' loaded to the brim;
"And I will gie them a' to thee,
"Wi' four to thine eldest son.
"But thanks to a' the powers in heaven,
"That I gae maiden hame!"

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Scoup—Go, or rather fly.

[10] To keep her from changing countenance.


THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL.

A FRAGMENT.

NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.


There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them o'er the sea.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
Whan word came to the carline wife,
That her three sons were gane.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
Whan word came to the carline wife,
That her sons she'd never see.
"I wish the wind may never cease,
"Nor fishes in the flood,
"Till my three sons come hame to me,
"In earthly flesh and blood!"
It fell about the Martinmass,
Whan nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o' the birk.
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o' Paradise,
That birk grew fair eneugh.

"Blow up the fire, my maidens!
"Bring water from the well!
"For a' my house shall feast this night,
"Since my three sons are well."
And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide;
And she's ta'en her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bed-side.

then crew the red red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
"'Tis time we were away."
The cock he hadna craw'd but once,
And clapp'd his wings at a',
Whan the youngest to the eldest said,
"Brother, we must awa.
"The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
"The channerin'[11] worm doth chide;
"Gin we be mist out o' our place,
"A sair pain we maun bide.
"Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
"Fareweel to barn and byre!
"And fare ye weel, the bonny lass,
"That kindles my mother's fire."

NOTES
ON
THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL.


I wish the wind may never cease, &c.—P. 46. v. 2.

The sense of this verse is obscure, owing, probably, to corruption by reciters. It would appear, that the mother had sinned in the same degree with the celebrated Lenoré.

And their hats were o' the birk.—P. 46. v. 3.

The notion, that the souls of the blessed wear garlands, seems to be of Jewish origin. At least, in the Maase-book, there is a Rabbinical tradition, to the following effect:—

"It fell out, that a Jew, whose name was Ponim, an ancient man, whose business was altogether about the dead, coming to the door of the school, saw one standing there, who had a garland upon his head. Then was Rabbi Ponim afraid, imagining it was a spirit. Whereupon he, whom the Rabbi saw, called out to him, saying, 'Be not afraid, but pass forward. Dost thou not know me?' Then said Rabbi Ponim, 'Art not thou he whom I buried yesterday?' And he was answered, 'Yea, I am he.' Upon which Rabbi Ponim said, 'Why comest thou hither? How fareth it with thee in the other world?' And the apparition made answer, 'It goeth well with me, and I am in high esteem in paradise.' Then said the Rabbi, 'Thou wert but looked upon in the world as an insignificant Jew. What good work didst thou do, that thou art thus esteemed?' The apparition answered, 'I will tell thee: the reason of the esteem I am in, is, that I rose every morning early, and with fervency uttered my prayer, and offered the grace from the bottom of my heart: for which reason I now pronounce grace in paradise, and am well respected. If thou doubtest whether I am the person, I will show thee a token that shall convince thee of it. Yesterday, when thou didst clothe me in my funeral attire, thou didst tear my sleeve.' Then asked Rabbi Ponim, 'What is the meaning of that garland?' The apparition answered, 'I wear it, to the end the wind of the world may not have power over me; for it consists of excellent herbs of paradise.' Then did Rabbi Ponim mend the sleeve of the deceased: for the deceased had said, that if it was not mended, he should be ashamed to be seen amongst others, whose apparel was whole. And then the apparition vanished. Wherefore, let every one utter his prayer with fervency; for then it shall go well with him in the other world. And let care be taken that no rent, nor tearing, be left in the apparel in which the deceased are interred."—Jewish Traditions, abridged from Buxtorf, London, 1732, Vol. II. p. 19.

Gin we be mist out o' our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.—P. 48. v. 1.

This will remind the German reader of the comic adieu of a heavenly apparition:—

Doch sieh! man schliesst die himmels thür
Adieu! der himmlische Portier
Ist streng und hält auf ordnung.

Blumauer.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] Channerin'—Fretting.


COSPATRICK.

NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.


A copy of this Ballad, materially different from that which follows, appeared in "Scottish Songs," 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1792, under the title of Lord Bothwell. Some stanzas have been transferred from thence to the present copy, which is taken down from the recitation of a Lady, nearly related to the Editor. Some readings have been also adopted from a third copy, in Mrs Brown's MS., under the title of Child Brenton. Cospatrick (Comes Patricius) was the designation of the Earl of Dunbar, in the days of Wallace and Bruce.


Cospatrick has sent o'er the faem;
Cospatrick brought his ladye hame;
And fourscore ships have come her wi',
The ladye by the grene-wood tree.
There were twal' and twal' wi' baken bread,
And twal' and twal' wi' gowd sae reid,
And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour,
And twal' and twal' wi' the paramour.
Sweet Willy was a widow's son,
And at her stirrup he did run;
And she was clad in the finest pall,
But aye she let the tears down fall.
"O is your saddle set awrye?
"Or rides your steed for you owre high?
"Or are you mourning, in your tide,
"That you suld be Cospatrick's bride?"
"I am not mourning, at this tide,
"That I suld be Cospatrick's bride;
"But I am sorrowing, in my mood,
"That I suld leave my mother good.
"But, gentle boy, come tell to me,
"What is the custom of thy countrie?"
"The custom thereof, my dame," he says,
"Will ill a gentle ladye please.
"Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded,
"And seven king's daughters has our lord bedded;
"But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane,
"And sent them mourning hame again.
"Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid,
"Ye may gae safely to his bed;
"But gif o' that ye be na sure,
"Then hire some damsell o' your bour."
The ladye's called her bour maiden,
That waiting was into her train;
"Five thousand merks I'll gie to thee,
"To sleep this night with my lord for me."
When bells were rung, and mass was sayne,
And a' men unto bed were gane,
Cospatrick and the bonny maid,
Into ae chamber they were laid.
"Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed,
"And speak, thou sheet, enchanted web;
"And speak up, my bonny brown sword, that winna lie,
"Is this a true maiden that lies by me?"
"It is not a maid that you hae wedded,
"But it is a maid that you hae bedded;
"It is a leal maiden that lies by thee,
"But not the maiden that it should be."
O wrathful he left the bed,
And wrathfully his claiths on did;
And he has ta'en him through the ha',
And on his mother he did ca'.
"I am the most unhappy man,
"That ever was in christen land!
"I courted a maiden, meik and mild,
"And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi' child."
"O stay, my son, into this ha',
"And sport ye wi' your merrymen a';
"And I will to the secret bour,
"To see how it fares wi' your paramour."
The carline she was stark and sture,
She aff the hinges dang the dure;
"O is your bairn to laird or loun,
"Or is it to your father's groom?"
"O! hear me, mother, on my knee,
"Till my sad story I tell thee:
"O we were sisters, sisters seven,
"We were the fairest under heaven.
"It fell on a summer's afternoon,
"When a' our toilsome task was done,
"We cast the kevils us amang,
"To see which suld to the grene-wood gang.
"O hon! alas, for I was youngest,
"And aye my weird it was the hardest!
"The kevil it on me did fa',
"Whilk was the cause of a' my woe,
"For to the grene-wood I maun gae,
"To pu' the red rose and the slae;
"To pu' the red rose and the thyme,
"To deck my mother's bour and mine.
"I hadna pu'd a flower but ane,
"When by there came a gallant hende,
"Wi' high coll'd hose and laigh coll'd shoon,
"And he seemed to be sum king's son.
"And be I maid, or be I nae,
"He kept me there till the close o' day;
"And be I maid, or be I nane,
"He kept me there till the day was done.
"He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair,
"And bade me keep it ever mair;
"He gae me a carknet[12] o' bonny beads,
"And bade me keep it against my needs.
"He gae to me a gay gold ring,
"And bade me keep it abune a' thing."
"What did ye wi' the tokens rare,
"That ye gat frae that gallant there?"
"O bring that coffer unto me,
"And a' the tokens ye sall see."
"Now stay, daughter, your bour within,
"While I gae parley wi' my son."
O she has ta'en her thro' the ha',
And on her son began to ca';
"What did you wi' the bonny beads,
"I bade ye keep against your needs?
"What did you wi' the gay gold ring,
"I bade ye keep abune a' thing?"
"I gae them to a ladye gay,
"I met in grene-wood on a day.
"But I wad gie a' my halls and tours,
"I had that ladye within my bours;
"But I wad gie my very life,
"I had that ladye to my wife."
"Now keep, my son, your ha's and tours;
"Ye have that bright burd in your bours:
"And keep, my son, your very life;
"Ye have that lady to your wife."
Now, or a month was cum and gane,
The ladye bore a bonny son;
And 'twas weel written on his breast bane,
"Cospatrick is my father's name."
O row my ladye in satin and silk,
And wash my son in the morning milk.