A Collection of Ballads

SON DAVIE! SON DAVIE!

(Mackay.)

"What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
Son Davie! Son Davie!
What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
And the truth come tell to me, O."

"It is the bluid of my great hawk,
Mother lady, Mother lady!
It is the bluid of my great hawk,
And the truth I hae tald to thee, O."

"Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,
Son Davie! Son Davie!
Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,
And the truth come tell to me, O."

"It is the bluid of my grey hound,
Mother lady! Mother lady!
It is the bluid of my grey hound,
And it wudna rin for me, O."

"Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,
Son Davie! Son Davie!
Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,
And the truth come tell to me, O."

"It is the bluid o' my brother John,
Mother lady! Mother lady!
It is the bluid o' my brother John,
And the truth I hae tald to thee, O."

"What about did the plea begin?
Son Davie! Son Davie!"
"It began about the cutting o' a willow wand,
That would never hae been a tree, O."

"What death dost thou desire to die?
Son Davie! Son Davie!
What death dost thou desire to die?
And the truth come tell to me, O."

"I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
Mother lady! mother lady!
I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
And ye'll never see mair o' me, O."

"What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife?
Son Davie! Son Davie!"
"Grief and sorrow all her life,
And she'll never get mair frae me, O."

"What wilt thou leave to thy young son?
Son Davie! son Davie!"
"The weary warld to wander up and down,
And he'll never get mair o' me, O."

"What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear?
Son Davie! Son Davie!"
"A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer,
And she'll never get mair o' me, O."

THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL

(Child, vol. iii.)

There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them oer the sea,

They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
When 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 carlin wife
That her sons she'd never see.

"I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fashes 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 taen her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bedside.

* * * * *

Up 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 crawd 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 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!"

THE TWA CORBIES

(Child, vol. i.)

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine the day?"

"In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there
But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.

"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may make our dinner sweet.

"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken whae he is gane,
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."

THE BONNIE EARL MORAY

(Child, vol. vi.)

A.

Ye Highlands, and ye Lawlands
Oh where have you been?
They have slain the Earl of Murray,
And they layd him on the green.

"Now wae be to thee, Huntly!
And wherefore did you sae?
I bade you bring him wi you,
But forbade you him to slay."

He was a braw gallant,
And he rid at the ring;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Oh he might have been a King!

He was a braw gallant,
And he playd at the ba;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Was the flower amang them a'.

He was a braw gallant,
And he playd at the glove;
And the bonny Earl of Murray,
Oh he was the Queen's love!

Oh lang will his lady
Look oer the castle Down,
Eer she see the Earl of Murray
Come sounding thro the town!
Eer she, etc.

B.

"Open the gates
and let him come in;
He is my brother Huntly,
he'll do him nae harm."

The gates they were opent,
they let him come in,
But fause traitor Huntly,
he did him great harm.

He's ben and ben,
and ben to his bed,
And with a sharp rapier
he stabbed him dead.

The lady came down the stair,
wringing her hands:
"He has slain the Earl o Murray,
the flower o Scotland."

But Huntly lap on his horse,
rade to the King:
"Ye're welcome hame, Huntly,
and whare hae ye been?

"Where hae ye been?
and how hae ye sped?"
"I've killed the Earl o Murray
dead in his bed."

"Foul fa you, Huntly!
and why did ye so?
You might have taen the Earl o Murray,
and saved his life too."

"Her bread it's to bake,
her yill is to brew;
My sister's a widow,
and sair do I rue.

"Her corn grows ripe,
her meadows grow green,
But in bonnie Dinnibristle
I darena be seen."

CLERK SAUNDERS

(Child, vol. iii.)

Clerk Saunders and may Margaret
Walked ower yon garden green;
And sad and heavy was the love
That fell thir twa between.

"A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said,
"A bed for you and me!"
"Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret,
"'Till anes we married be.

"For in may come my seven bauld brothers,
Wi' torches burning bright;
They'll say,-'We hae but ae sister,
And behold she's wi a knight!'"

"Then take the sword frae my scabbard,
And slowly lift the pin;
And you may swear, and save your aith.
Ye never let Clerk Saunders in.

"And take a napkin in your hand,
And tie up baith your bonny e'en,
And you may swear, and save your aith,
Ye saw me na since late yestreen."

It was about the midnight hour,
When they asleep were laid,
When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi' torches burning red.

When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi' torches burning bright:
They said, "We hae but ae sister,
And behold her lying with a knight!"

Then out and spake the first o' them,
"I bear the sword shall gar him die!"
And out and spake the second o' them,
"His father has nae mair than he!"

And out and spake the third o' them,
"I wot that they are lovers dear!"
And out and spake the fourth o' them,
"They hae been in love this mony a year!"

Then out and spake the fifth o' them,
"It were great sin true love to twain!"
And out and spake the sixth o' them,
"It were shame to slay a sleeping man!"

Then up and gat the seventh o' them,
And never a word spake he;
But he has striped his bright brown brand
Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye.

Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turned
Into his arms as asleep she lay;
And sad and silent was the night
That was atween thir twae.

And they lay still and sleeped sound
Until the day began to daw;
And kindly to him she did say,
"It is time, true love, you were awa'."

But he lay still, and sleeped sound,
Albeit the sun began to sheen;
She looked atween her and the wa',
And dull and drowsie were his e'en.

Then in and came her father dear;
Said,-"Let a' your mourning be:
I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay,
And I'll come back and comfort thee."

"Comfort weel your seven sons;
For comforted will I never be:
I ween 'twas neither knave nor loon
Was in the bower...