There was a King lived in the East, Green the wood grows early; Who loved a lady in the West, Where the hart runs yearly. This king he to the West did ride, Green the... And he brought home a comely bride. Where the hart... This king is to the hunting gone, He left his lady all alone. "Oh, I wish ye'd never gone away, For your hall is filled with woe today. The king o' Faerie with his dart, Has pierced your lady to the heart." The King then called his nobles all, To guard her corpse within the hall, But when the lords all fell asleep, Her corpse out of the house did sweep. The king is to the wildwood gone, Till he with hair was overgrown. When he had sat for seven years, A company to him drew near. Some did ride and some did run, He spied his lady them among. There stood a hall upon a hil,l When they entered, all was still. And after them the king has gone, But when he came, t'was a grey stone. Then he took out his pipes to play, For his poor heart did pine away. And first he played the notes o' noy, And then he played the notes' o' joy. And then he played a merry reel, That might have made a sick heart heal. There came a boy out of the hall, "Ye're bidden come in among us all." The king did enter in the hall, And he went in among them all. The king of faerie then did say, "What shall we give thee for thy play?" "For my play I will thee tell I'll have my lady Isabel." "Thy sister's son, unworthy thing, Tomorrow shall be crowned king. "Ye take your lady and go home, And ye shall be king o'er all your own." He took his lady and went home, And now he's king o'er all his own.

Two sisters lived in yonder glen, Minorie O Minorie; One man came a-wooing both of them, By the bonnie mill dams of Minorie. He courted the eldest with glove and ring, But he loved the youngest above all things. He courted the eldest with all his land, But he courted the youngest with his right hand. Upon a morning fair and clear, The eldest came to her sister dear. Sister will ye go to the broom? To hear the blackbirds change their tune. They walked up and down in the broom, And thrice the blackbirds changed their tune. She took her by the lily hand, And led her down to the river strand. She took her by the middle small, And dashed her bonnie back to the jaw In the deep mill dams o' Minorie She swam up and she swam down, Until she came to her sister again. Sister, sister reach your hand, Ye shall be heir of half my land. Sister, I'll not reach my hand, But I shall be heir of all your land. Sister, reach me but your glove, And Sweet William shall be your love. Sister I'll not reach my glove, Sweet William shall be my love. The miller's daughter came to the dam, For water to wash her father's hands. Father, father fish ye the dam, There's either a mermaid or a swan. Has drowned in the dams o' Minorie. The miller hasted to draw his dam, And there he found a drowned woman. And all among her yellow hair, A string of pearls was twisted rare. There's many saw her drawn from the pool, As many more came to her burial.

As I cam in by Dunidier And in by Netherha' I saw six thousand lowlanders A-marching to Harlaw refrain: Wi' my durrim do, durrim do, daddie durrim day As I cam on and father on Till I cam to Balquhain; It's there I met Sir James the Rose And with him was John Graeme. "Oh cam ye from the Highlands, man, And did ye cam that way And did ye see MacDonell and his men As they marched from Skye?" "Oh yes I from the Highlands cam' And I did come that way And I did see MacDonnell and his men As they marched from Skye" "Oh was ye near MacDonnell's men? Did ye their numbers see? Can ye tell us, my trusty friend What might their numbers be?" "Oh I was near MacDonnell's men, And I their numbers saw There were nine thousand Highlandmen A-marching to Harlaw" "If this be true," says James the Rose "There will be hundreds dead We'd best cry in our merry men And turn our horses' heads" "Oh no, oh no" says John the Graeme "That thing can never be The gallant Graemes was never cowards That would from battle flee" So they went on and tarther on Till they cam to Harlaw The strokes fell fast on every side Such fun you never saw The Highlandmen with their long swords They fell on them full sore And they beat back the Lowlanders Two acres breadth and more Lord Forbes to his brother said "Oh brother, don't ye see How they beat us back on every side And we'll be forced to flee "Oh no, oh no my brother Such a thing can never be Ye'll take your good sword in your hand And ye'll go in with me" Now back to back, the brothers bold They went among the throng And they hewed down the Highlandmen With heavy swords and long Lord Forbes, he being young and stout Made the Highlandmen to yield As a scythe doth the green grass That grows upon the field. MacDonell, he being young and stout Put on his coat of mail; And he has gone out through the ranks To fight Lord Forbes himself. The first blow that Forbes struck Did make MacDonell reel; The next blow that Forbes struck The proud MacDonell fell. What a cry among the Highlandmen When they saw their leader fall; They lifted him and buried him A long mile from Harlaw. This battle began on Monday With the rising of the sun By nightfall on Saturday Ye scarce could tell who'd won And there was such a burial The like ye never saw As there was upon the Sabbath day In the hollow beneath Harlaw If anyone should ask ye O' them ye marched away Ye may tell their wives and babies, They're sleeping in the clay.

Willie and his Highlandmen Came from the Carron side; To steal away Eppie Morrie For she wouldn't be his bride. Out did come her mother then, It was a moonlit night; She couldn't see her daughter For their swords did shine so bright. "Hands off of me, Willie Hands off of me! There's but one man in all Strathdon Shall wedded be with me." They've taken Eppie Morrie then On horseback bound her on; And then they rode to the minister's house As fast as horse could run. And Willie took a pistol out And set it to the minister's breast; "It's marry me, marry me minister Or else I'll be your priest." "Hands off of me, Willie Hands off of me! There's but one man in all Strathdon Shall wedded be with me." "Hands off of me, Willie, Hands off of me! It's I've no right to marry you Except she's willing as thee." They've taken Eppie Morrie Since a wedding couldn't be, And they rode over Carron side As fast as horse could flee. Then mass was sung and bells were rung And all were bound for bed; And Willie and Eppie Morrie To one bed they were led. He took his shirt from off his back, His hat from off his head; He threw away the chamber key, Stood naked by the bed. "Hands off of me, Willie, Hands off of me! Before I lose my maidenhead I'll try my strength with thee." He kissed her on the lily breast And pinned her shoulders down, But still she fought and still she spat And turned her back around. "Hands off of me, Willie, Hands off of me, Before I lose my maidenhead I'll fight with you till day." All through the night they wrestled Till the moon was o'er the hill; And Willie fought and Willie spat But he couldn't have his will. It was early in the morning With the rising of the sun; In came the maid with the good red wine And Eppie's shirt and gown. "Get up, get up young woman And drink the wine with me." "You might have called me maiden For I'm still the same as thee." "Too bad for you, Willie, If you couldn't prove a man; And taken the lassie's maidenhead She would've had your hand." "Hands off of me, lady Hands off of me. There's but one man in all Strathdon Shall wedded be with me." Then in did burst young John Forsyth With four and twenty men; Says "Let the lady go, Willie Or you'll never rise again." "Go, get to me my horse, Willie, Get it like a man; And send me back to my mother A maiden as I cam." "The sun shines o'er the Western Hills By the lamplight of the moon; Go saddle your horse, young John Forsyth And whistle, and I'll come soon."

There were six and six horsemen, rode through Banchory fair, And bonnie Glenlogie was the flower that was there. There were nine and nine nobles sat at the King's hall, Bonnie Glenlogie was the flower of them all. And the young lady Jeannie, so good and so fair, She fancied Glenlogie above all that were there. She called on his footman as he passed her side, "Oh, who is your master, and where does he bide?" "They call him Glenlogie when he is from home, He's of the noble Gordons, and his name is Lord John." "Glenlogie, Glenlogie, I'll tell you my mind; I've lain my love on you, and I trust you'll prove kind." He turned him round lightly, as the Gordons do all, Says, "I thank you, fair lady, but your fortune's too small." She called on her maidens her bed for to make, And the rings on her fingers, all from her to take. "Glenlogie, Glenlogie, Glenlogie," she cried, "If I can't get Glenlogie, for him I will die." And it's in came her father, his face lined with care; "What ails you, my Jeannie, that you're lying there?" "It's his bonny body and his black rolling eye, If I can't get Glenlogie, for him I will die." "Oh hold your tongue, daughter, if he cares not for thee, I'll lead ye to Drumfindlay, he has more gold than he." "No hold your tongue, father, and let me alone, If I can't get Glenlogie, then I will have none." Her father's old chaplain was a man of great skill; He wrote a broad letter, and he penned it well. "Who's a match for ye, Logie, now since it is so, There's a maid's love laid on ye, must she die in her woe? "Who's a match for ye, Logie, so haughty and high; And it's all for your sake a young woman should die?" When Glenlogie got the letter, he was among men, He gave a light laugh, says "oh, what does this mean?" When he finished the letter, the tear dimmed his eye, "What a pity for my sake young Jeannie should die. "Go saddle my grey horse, go saddle the brown, Jeannie Melville o' Bethelnie may be dead e'er I come." Before they were saddled, the brown and the grey, Glenlogie was running three miles upon his way. When he came to Bethelnie, there was nobody there, But one bonnie lassie, she was combin her hair. He said, "Bonnie lassie, take me by the hand, And lead me to the chamber Jeannie Melville lies in." And pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie came in, But red and rosy grew she, when she knew it was him. "Oh, where's your pain, lady, does it lie in your head, The pain ye lie under, does it lie in your side?" "Oh no no Glenlogie, ye're far from the part, For the pain I lie under is all in my heart." "Then cheer up, my Jeannie, turn ye from the wall, I've lain my love on ye, the flower of them all. " Now Jeannie's got married, and her fortune down told Bonnie Jeannie o' Bethelnie was scarce sixteen years old. O Bethelnie, o Bethelnie, it shines where it stands, And the heather bells round it shine over Fyvie's lands.

Good Lord Scroope's to the hunting gone, And he has ridden o'er moss and moor; All for to take bold Hughie Grime, For stealing the Bishop of Carlisle's mare. "Turn, turn, thou traitor thief! Turn and yield thyself unto me, For thou hast stolen the Lord Bishop's mare, And now thou thinkest away to flee." "My good Lord Scroope, good day to thee; Here hangs a broadsword by my side, And if thou canst but conquer me, The matter it may soon be tried." "I'm not afraid of a traitor thief, Although thy name be Hughie Grime; I'll make thee repent thee of thy deeds If God but grant me life and time." But as they dealt their blows so free, And both so bloody at that time; Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall, And they have gripped bold Hughie Grime. And they have bound up Hughie Grime And led him in through Carlisle town; The lads and lasses stood on the walls Crying, "Hughie Graeme, ye'll never go down." And they have chosen a jury of men, The best that were in Carlisle town; And twelve of them did speak as one, Saying, "Hughie Grime, ye must go down." But up and spoke the good Lord Boles, Was sitting at the judge's knee; "Twenty white oxen, my good lord, If ye'll let Hughie Grime go free." "Oh no, oh no, the Bishop said, And ye'll let all this pleading be; Though there were but three Grimes of the name, He should be hanged high for me." Then up and spoke the good Lady Ward, As she sat on the bench so high; "A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge, If ye'll let Hughie Grime go free. And if it be not full enough, I'll stroke it up with my silver fan; And if it be not full enough, I'll heap it up with my own hand." "Oh no, oh no, my good Lady Ward, And ye'll let all thy speeches be; Though there were but one Grime of the name, It's for my honor he would die." Hughie Grime's condemned to die, Though of his friends there was no lack; Then he jumped fourteen feet and three With his hands bound fast behind his back. And he looked over his left shoulder, It was to see what he could see; And there he spied his old mother, Weeping and wailing, "Oh, woe is me." "Peace, peace, now mother dear, And see that ye don't weep for me; Thy weeping's sorer on my heart Than all that they can do to me." Then he looked over his right shoulder, It was to see what he might see; And there he spied his old father, Come tearing his hair most piteously. "Peace, peace now, father dear, And see that ye don't mourn for me; Though they may ravish me of my life, They cannot banish me from heaven high. "Remember me to Maggie my wife, The next time ye cross oe'r the moor; T'was she bereaved me of my life, And with the Bishop, she played the whore. "I leave my brother John the sword, That's pointed with the metal clear; And bid him come at 8 of the clock And see me pay for the Bishop's mare."

O haven't ye heard of the keen Lord Scroope? And of his man, the false Sakelde? How they have taken bold Kinmont Willie Just as a day of truce was held? Behind his back, his hands were bound Beneath his steed, his legs they tied They guarded him, ten mounted men, To bring him to the English side. They led him through the Liddell ford They led him through the Carlisle sands; They led him in to Carlisle castle To be at the keen Lord Scroope's commands. "My hands are tied, but my tongue is free and who will dare this deed avow? or answer by the border law? Or answer to the bold Buccleuch?" "Now hold thy tongue, thou rank robber, There's never a Scot shall set ye free When next ye cross my castle gate Ye'll go to hang on Haribee" Now word is gone to the bold Buccleuch The keeper on the Scottish side How they have taken bold Kinmont Willie Against the truce of border tide He slammed the table with his hand He made the red wine spring on high "I'll be avenged on Lord Scroope Kinmont Willie shall go free" He gathered forty marchmen bold All kinsmen to the bold Buccleuch With spur at heel, with plate on shoulder, Gloves of green, and feathers blue There were five and five before them all With hunting horns and bugles bright And five and five came with Buccleuch Like Warden's men, arrayed for fight And five and five like a mason's gang That carried ladders long and high And five and five were outlawed men And so they reached the Woodhouselee. And as we crossed the bateable land When to the English side we held The first of men that we should meet Who should it be but the false Sakelde? "Where are ye bound, ye hunters keen? Cried out Sakelde, "come tell to me" "We go to hunt an English stag That's trespassed on the Scots country" "Where are ye bound, ye marshal-men?" Then cried Sakelde, "come tell me true!" "We go to catch a rank robber That's broken faith with the bold Buccleuch." "Where are ye bound, ye mason lads With all your ladders, long and high?" "We go to rob a raven's nest That sits not far from Woodhouselee. "Where are ye bound, ye rough outlaws" Cried out Sakelde, "come tell me true" Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band Though he'd had never a day at school. "Why trespass ye on the English side? Ye rank and rough-shod outlaw, stand!" The never a word had Dickie to say But through Sakelde he thrust his lance Then on we held for Carlisle town at Stony Bank the Eden we crossed The river racing in full flood, But not one horse or man was lost And when we reached the other side The wind was rising loud and high Buccleuch said to leave our steeds For fear that they should stamp and neigh. And when we left the Stony Bank The wind was rising to a squall In frost and wet, and fire and sleet we came beneath the castle wall We crept along, we held our breath We set the ladders against the wall And ready was Buccleuch himself To mount the first before us all He took the watchman by the throat Upon the roof he tied him down "were there not peace between our lands I would have flung ye to the ground." Then speedily we went to work And raised the slogan one and all And cut a hole though a sheet of lead And climbed down in the castle hall Then locks and bolts and chains we broke We made the bars bang merrily Until we came to the inner prison Where they had fettered Kinmont Willie. And when we came to the prison cell Where Will of Kinmont he did lie "O sleep or wake ye, Kinmont Willie Upon the day that you're to die?" "O I sleep soft, and I wake oft It's long since sleep was fled from me Give my service back to my wife and sons And all good souls that ask for me" Then Red Rowan broke the door, The starkest man in Teviotdale He drew his chains out from the stone And carried Willie from the jail. "Now sound out bugles," cried Buccleuch "To signal the lads that Willie is free" And when Scroope heard their bugles blow, He cried, "Who sounds this reveille?" "Farewell, farewell, my good Lord Scroope "My thanks for the lodging," Willie he cried "I'll settle up the bill with you When next we meet on the border side" Then shoulder high, with shout and cry We bore him down the ladder long And very stride Red Rowan took Made Willle's heavy irons clang We scarce had reached our steeds again When Carlisle's bells rang out for troops A thousand men by horse and foot Came along with the keen Lord Scroope. Buccleuch turned to Eden Water, And he plunged in with all his band The river raced from bank to brim And still we swam to fair Scotland Lord Scroope cried, "he is a devil from hell Or his mother's a witch, as you can see, I wouldn't have ridden that white water For all the gold in Christendie"

Clark Colven and his lady gay Were walking to yon garden green; The belt about her slender waist Had cost Clark Colven pounds fifteen. "O listen well now, Clark Colven, O listen well what I do say; When ye go to the wall of stream Don't ye go near the pretty maid." "Never fear, my lady fair, No need to take such care of me; I never saw a woman in all my life That I could love as well as thee." He mounted on his berry-brown steed, And merry, merry rode he on; Until he came to the wall of stream And there he spied the mermaiden. "Wash on, wash on, ye pretty maid, That wash so clean your shift of silk"; "It's all for you my gentle knight, My skin is whiter than the milk." He took her by the milk-white hand, He took her by the sleeve so green; And he forgot his lady fair, And he went with the mermaiden. "Alas, alas!" cries Clark Colven, "And why so sorely aches my head?" "Perhaps you've lain with a lady fair, Since last you saw your mermaiden." "But ye'll take out your little pen-knife, And from my shift come cut a strip, And tie it round your lovely head, And then the pain will ease its grip." And he took out his little pen-knife, And from her shift he cut a strip; She tied it round and round his head And yet the pain increased its grip. "Alas, alas!" cries Clark Colven, "It's sore and sorer aches my head!" "And sorer sorer ever will," The maiden cries," till ye be dead!" Then he took out his trusty blade And sought to stab her where she stood; But there she turned into a fish, And merrily sprang into the flood. He mounted on his berry brown steed And gloomy, gloomy rode he home; And heavily, heavily lighted he down, When he came to his lady's door. "Oh, mother, mother make my bed, Oh gentle lady, lay me down; O brother, brother, unbend my bow, I'll never bend a bow again." Clark Colven's mother made his bed, His gentle lady laid him down; His brother, he unbent his bow, It never was bent by him again.

A fair young maid went up the street Some sweetmeats for to buy; And a young clerk fell in love with her And followed her on the sly. "O, where live ye, my bonnie lass? i pray ye tell to me; and though the night were never so dark i'd come and visit thee!" "My father locks the door at night And my mother keeps the key; And though the night were ever so dark You couldn't get in to me." This clerk he had a true brother, And a good square-wright was he; And he has made a long ladder With thirty steps and three. He made a basket and a hook With a long rope and a pin; He's away to the chimney top To lower the young clerk in. The old wife, she lay wide awake Though late late was the hour; "I'll lay my life," said the silly old wife, "There's a man in our daughter's bower!" The old man he went down the stairs To see if it were true; She took the young clerk in her arms In under the coverlet blue. "O, what are you doing my daughter dear? O, what are you doing my doo?" "I'm prayin' on the bible here For my dear old mother and you." "O wife, O wife, you silly old wife, Cursed may you be! She's got the bible in her arms And she's praying for you and me." The old wife lying wide awake Heard something that was said "I'll lay my life," said the silly old wife "There's a man in our daughter's bed" "Get up, get up, my good old man And see if it be true." "Get up yourself, you silly old woman And may the devil take you." The old wife she went down the stairs To see if it be true; But she slipped on the rope and reeled about And into the basket she flew. The man that was at the chimney-top Finding the basket full; He wrapped the rope his shoulder round And swiftly he did pull. "Get up, get up, my good old man O help me, husband do; For you wished me to the devil And I fear he's got me now." "Oh if the foul fiend's got you now I hope he'll hold you fast, For between you and your pious daughter I haven't had a wink of rest." The man at the top he gave a cry Then he let the basket fall; While every rib in the old wife's side Went nick-nack on the wall. Here's to all a fond farewell, And a health to the lovers true; And may every old wife that wakes in the night Get a shake in the basket too.

A beggarman cam o'er yon lea With many a "good day" and "good even to thee." Says, "Good wife, for your courtesy Will ye lodge a beggarman?" The night was cold, the man was wet And down beside the fire he sat And he cast his meal pack off his back And merrily ranted and sang "O," says the daughter, "were I as white As ever the snow lay on the dike, It's I would dress me ladylike And away with you I'd run." "O," said the beggar, "were ye as black As ever the crown of my father's hat Then ye should lie down at my back And away with you I'd run." And so the two made up the plot To rise two hours before the cock So quietly she shot the lock And through the fields they ran When the cock did crow, the old wife rose And at her leisure, put on her clothes And straight to the servant's chamber goes Asking for the beggarman But when she came where the poor man lay The straw was cold and he was away She clapped her hands, cried, "Well-a-day! Are any of our good things gone?" Some ran to the coffers, some ran to the chest But all was there and nothing missed She danced for joy crying "Praise be the blest, I've lodged an honest man!" "Since nothing's gone, that we can learn There's cows to milk and milk to churn Get young Peggy up and out to the barn And bid her come speedily on" The servant went where the daughter lay But the sheets were cold and she was away And straight to the old wife, she did say "She's away with the beggarman" "Fie, go ride! Fie, go run! And haste ye find these traitors again For she'll be burnt and he'll be slain The weariful beggarman!" Some rode on horseback, some ran on foot The old wife she went out of her wits They took her hands and bade her sit And ay, she cursed and banned. When years had passed, some two or three A beggarman came o'er you lea Seeking out for charity, "Will you lodge a beggarman?" "I never will lodge a beggar again I had one daughter and Peggy was her name But she ran away with a beggarman I know not where she's gone" "Old wife, old wife, well how would it be To see her comin' o'er yon lea And her with a baby on her knee And another one comin' on? "Yonder she's comin', to your bower In silk and satin, with many's the flower." She raised up her hands and blessed the hour That she went with the beggarman.

Cold blows the wind tonight, sweetheart, And soft fall the drops of rain; I never had but one sweetheart In cold clay she is lain. I'll do as much for my true love As any a young man may; I'll sit and mourn at her graveside For a twelvemonth and a day. When twelve months and a day had passed, The ghost began to speak; "Whose salten tears come tricklin' down And wet my winding sheet?" "It's only I, your own true love; There's just one thing I crave, That's one kiss from your sweet lips, Then I'll go from your grave" "Your breath is sweet as roses, love, My breath is earthy strong; If you get one kiss from my clay cold lips, Your time will not be long. Go and fetch me water from the desert, Blood from out of a stone; Go and bring me milk from a maiden's breast That young man never has known." "All down in yonder garden, love Where you and I did walk; The fairest flower that ever grew Is withered to a stalk." "The stalk is withered and dry, sweetheart The flower no more we'll see Go make yourself content, my love Lament no more for me."