Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE BONNY BOWS O' LONDON. See p. 231.

From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 128.

THERE were twa sisters in a bower,
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding ;
And ae king's son hae courted them baith,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

He courted the youngest wi' broach and ring,
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding;

5

He courted the eldest wi' some other thing,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

It fell ance upon a day,

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding, The eldest to the youngest did say,

At the bonny, bonny bows o' London :

"Will ye gae to yon Tweed mill dam,”

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding,

10

"And see our father's ships come to land?" At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

15

They baith stood up upon a stane,

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding; The eldest dang the youngest in,

At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

She swimmed up, sae did she down,
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding;
Till she came to the Tweed mill-dam,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

The miller's servant he came out,
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding;

And saw the lady floating about,

At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

"O master, master, set your mill,"

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding; "There is a fish, or a milk-white swan," At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

They could not ken her yellow hair,
Hey wi3 the gay and the grinding ;
[For] the scales o' gowd that were laid there,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

35

They could not ken her fingers sae white,
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding ;
The rings o' gowd they were sae bright,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

They could not ken her middle sae jimp,
Hey wử the gay and the grinding;
The stays o' gowd were so well laced,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London,

40

They could not ken her foot sae fair,

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding; The shoes o' gowd they were so rare, At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

Her father's fiddler he came by,

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding; Upstarted her ghaist before his eye,

At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

"Ye'll take a lock o' my yellow hair,”
Hey wử the gay and the grinding ;
"Ye'll make a string to your fiddle there,"
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

“Ye'll take a lith o' my little finger bane,”
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding ;
“And ye'll make a pin to your fiddle then,”

At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

He's ta'en a lock o' her yellow hair,
Hey wử the gay and the grinding;
And made a string to his fiddle there,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

He's taen a lith o' her little finger bane,
Hey wi' the gay and the grinding;
And he's made a pin to his fiddle then,
At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

The firstand spring the fiddle did play,

Hey wi' the gay and the grinding;

45

50

55

60

Said, "Ye'll drown my sister, as she's dune me,"

65

70

At the bonny, bonny bows o' London.

I.

THE CROODLIN DOO. See Lord Donald, p. 244.

FROM Chambers's Scottish Ballads, p. 324. Other copies in The Scot's Musical Museum, (1853,) vol. iv. 364*, and Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 179.

“O WHAUR hae ye been a' the day,
My little wee croodlin doo ?"

“O I've been at my grandmother's;
Mak my bed, mammie, noo."

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

"O whaur did she catch the fishie,

My bonnie wee croodlin doo ?” "She catch'd it in the gutter-hole ; Mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"And what did she do wi' the fish,
My little wee croodlin doo?

"

10

"She boiled it in a brass pan;

O mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"And what did ye do wi' the banes o't,
My bonnie wee croodlin doo?"

"I gied them to my little dog;

Mak my bed, mammie, noo."

"And what did your little doggie do,

My bonnie wee croodlin doo?”

15

20

"He stretch'd out his head, his feet, and dee'd, And so will I, mammie, noo!"

II.

THE SNAKE-COOK.

FROM oral tradition, in Erk's Deutscher Leiderhort, p. 6. Our homely translation is, as far as possible, word for word. Other German versions are The Stepmother, p. 5 of the same collection, (or Uhland, i. 272,) and Grandmother Adder-cook, at p. 7. The last is translated by Jamieson, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 320.

at

"WHERE hast thou been away so long,

Henry, my dearest son ?”

"O I have been at my true-love's,

Lady mother, ah me!

My young life,

She has poisoned for me."

"What gave she thee to eat,
Henry, my dearest son ?”

5

« PreviousContinue »