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O our Scots nobles wer richt laith

To weet their cork-heild schoone;
Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,

Thair hats they swam aboone.

O lang, lang may the ladies sit,

Wi thair fans into their hand,
Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence

Cum sailing to the land.

O lang, lang may the ladies stand,

Wi thair gold kems in their hair,
Waiting for thair ain deir lords,

For they'll se thame na mair.

Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,

It's fiftie fadom deip,
And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,

Wi the Scots lords at his feit.

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

Was married to a lord under night.

“Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,

And put on your armour so bright,
And take better care of your youngest sister,

For your eldest's awa the last night.”

He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,

And himself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,

And lightly they rode away.

Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder,

To see what he could see, * And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold,

Come riding over the lea.

“Light down, light down, Lady Margret,” he said,

And hold my steed in your hand,
Until that against your seven brethren bold,

And your father, I mak a stand.”

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,

It was o' the holland sae fine,
And aye she dighted' her father's bloody wounds,

That were redder than the wine.

“O chuse, O chuse, Lady Margret,” he said,

“O whether will ye gang or bide?” “I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William,” she said,

“For ye have left me no other guide.”

He's lifted her on a milk-white steed,

And himself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,

And slowly they baith rade away.

O they rade on, and on they rade,

And a' by the light of the moon, Until they came to yon wan water, And there they lighted down..

I 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.”

thing but you are Slaiam," she

O they rade on, and on they rade,

And a' by the light of the moon,
Until they cam' to his mother's ha' door,

And there they lighted down.

“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,

“O mak it braid and deep! And lay Lady Margret close at my back,

And the sounder I will sleep."

Lord William was dead lang ere midnight,

Lady Margret lang ere day-
And all true lovers that go thegither,

May they have mair luck than they!

Lord William was buried in St. Mary's kirk,

Lady Margaret in Mary's quire;
Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose,

And out o' the knight's a brier.

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.

? twined.

But bye and rade the Black Douglas,

And wow but he was rough!
For he pull'd up the bonny brier,

And flang't in St. Mary's loch.

10 THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF ROBIN HOOD

WHEN Robin Hood and Little John

Down, a down, a down, a down,
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, .

Please God, she will bleed me.”

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, o

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,

“Which you did never see,
And if you please to walk therein,

You blooded by me shall be.”

She took him by the lily-white hand,

And led him to a private room,
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood,

While one drop of blood would run down.

She blooded him in a vein of the arm,

And locked him up in the room;
Then did he bleed all the live-long day,
Until the next day at noon.

He then bethought him of a casement there,

Thinking for to get down;
But was so weak he could not leap,

He could not get him down.

He then bethought him of his bugle-horn,

Which hung low down to his knee; He set his horn unto his mouth,

And blew out weak blasts three.

Then Little John, when hearing him,

As he sat under a tree, "I fear my master is now near dead,

He blows so wearily.”

Then Little John to fair Kirkly is gone,

As fast as he can dree;
But when he came to Kirkly-hall,

He broke locks two or three:

Until he came bold Robin to see,

Then he fell on his knee; “A boon, a boon,” cries Little John,

“Master, I beg of thee.”

“What is that boon,” said Robin Hood,

“Little John, thou begs of me?" “It is to burn fair Kirkly-hall,

And all their nunnery.”

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