‘What can my barbarous father do, 85 But with his cruel rage pursue me? My lover’s blood is on thy spear; How canst thou, barbarous man, then woo me? ‘My happy sisters may be proud; With cruel and ungentle scoffing 90 May bid me seek on Yarrow’s braes My lover nailèd in his coffin. ‘My brother Douglas may upbraid, And strive with threatening words to move me; My lover’s blude is on thy spear, 95 How canst thou ever bid me love thee? ‘Yes, yes, prepare the bed, the bed of love, With bridal-sheets my body cover; Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door, Let in the expected husband-lover! 100 ‘But who the expected husband is? His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter. Ah me! what ghastly spectre’s yon, Comes in his pale shroud bleeding after? ‘Pale as he is, here lay him down, 105 Oh, lay his cold head on my pillow! Take aff, take aff these bridal weeds, And crown my careful head with willow. ‘Pale though thou art, yet best beloved, Oh, could my warmth to life restore thee! 110 Yet lie all night between my breasts; No youth lay ever there before thee. ‘Pale, pale indeed, O lovely youth! Forgive, forgive so foul a slaughter, And lie all night between my breasts; 115 No youth shall ever lie there after.’ A. Return, return, O mournful bride! Return, and dry thy useless sorrow: Thy lover heeds naught of thy sighs; He lies a corpse on the braes of Yarrow! 120 _William Hamilton._ CLVI _AULD ROBIN GRAY._ When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame, And a’ the warld to rest are gane, The waes o’ my heart fa’ in showers frae my e’e, While my gudeman lies sound by me. Young Jamie lo’ed me weel, and sought me for his bride; 5 But saving a croun he had naething else beside: To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea; And the croun and the pund were baith for me. He hadna been awa’ a week but only twa, When my father brak his arm, and the cow was stown awa; 10 My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea-- And auld Robin Gray came a-courtin’ me. My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin; I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi’ tears in his e’e 15 Said, Jennie, for their sakes, oh marry me!