O our Scots nobles wer richt laith O lang, lang may the ladies sit, O lang, lang may the ladies stand, Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour, And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY "RISE up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas,” she says, "And put on your armour so bright; Let it never be said, that a daughter of thine "Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, He's mounted her on a milk-white steed, With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder, To see what he could see, And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold, "Light down, light down, Lady Margret," he said, Until that against your seven brethren bold, She held his steed in her milk-white hand, And never shed one tear, Until that she saw her seven brethren fa, And her father hard fighting, who loved her so dear. "O hold your hand, Lord William!" she said, "For your strokes they are wondrous sair; True lovers I can get many a ane, But a father I can never get mair." O she's ta'en out her handkerchief, And aye she dighted' her father's bloody wounds, "O chuse, O chuse, Lady Margret," he said, He's lifted her on a milk-white steed, With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, O they rade on, and on they rade, 1 wiped. They lighted down to tak a drink Of the spring that ran sae clear; And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood, And sair she gan to fear. "Hold up, hold up, Lord William," she says "For I fear that you are slain!" “Tis naething but the shadow of my scarlet cloak, That shines in the water sae plain." O they rade on, and on they rade, "Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, "Get up, and let me in! Get up, get up, lady mother," he says "For this night my fair ladye I've win. "O mak my bed, lady mother," he says, And lay Lady Margret close at my back, Lord William was dead lang ere midnight, And all true lovers that go thegither, Lord William was buried in St. Mary's kirk, Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose, And they twa met, and they twa plat,2 And fain they wad be near; And a' the warld might ken right weel, 2 twined. But bye and rade the Black Douglas, For he pull'd up the bonny brier, And flang't in St. Mary's, loch. THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF ROBIN HOOD WHEN Robin Hood and Little John Went oer yon bank of broom, Said Robin Hood bold to Little John, "We have shot for many a pound." Hey down, a down, a down. "But I am not able to shoot one shot more, My broad arrows will not flee; But I have a cousin lives down below, Now Robin he is to fair Kirkly gone, As fast as he can win; But before he came there, as we do hear, He was taken very ill. And when he came to fair Kirkly-hall, He knockd all at the ring, But none was so ready as his cousin herself For to let bold Robin in. "Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin," she said, "And drink some beer with me?" "No, I will neither eat nor drink, Till I am bleeded by thee." "Well, I have a room, cousin Robin," she said, She took him by the lily-white hand, And there she blooded bold Robin Hood, She blooded him in a vein of the arm, He then bethought him of a casement there, But was so weak he could not leap, He then bethought him of his bugle-horn, He set his horn unto his mouth, And blew out weak blasts three. Then Little John, when hearing him, "I fear my master is now near dead, Then Little John to fair Kirkly is gone, But when he came to Kirkly-hall, "What is that boon," said Robin Hood, "Little John, thou begs of me?" "It is to burn fair Kirkly-hall, And all their nunnery.” |