Then up bespake a little bird That sate upon the tree, "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, And pay your maid her fee." "Come down, come down, my pretty bird, That sits upon the tree; I have a cage of beaten gold, I'll gie it unto thee." "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady; I winna come down to thee; For as ye have done to young Redin, Ye'd do the like to me." O there came seeking young Redin Mony a lord and knight, And there came seeking young Redin Mony a lady bright. They've called on Lady Catherine, But she sware by oak and thorn That she saw him not, young Redin, Since yesterday at morn. The lady turned her round about, Wi' mickle mournfu' din: "It fears me sair o' Clyde water That he is drowned therein." Then up spake young Redin's mither, The while she made her mane: "My son kenn'd a' the fords o' Clyde, He'd ride them ane by ane." "Gar douk, gar douk!" his father he cried, "Gar douk for gold and fee! O wha will douk for young Redin's sake, And wha will douk for me?" They hae douked in at ae weil-head, And out again at the ither: "We'll douk nae mair for young Redin, Although he were our brither." Then out it spake a little bird That sate upon the spray: "What gars ye seek him, young Redin, Sae early in the day? "Leave aff your douking on the day, And douk at dark o' night; Aboon the pool young Redin lies in, The candles they'll burn bright." They left aff their douking on the day, They hae douked at dark o' night; Aboon the pool where young Redin lay, The candles they burned bright. The deepest pool in a' the stream They found young Redin in; Wi' a great stone tied across his breast To keep his body down. Then up and spake the little bird, Says, "What needs a' this din? It was Lady Catherine took his life, And hided him in the linn." She sware her by the sun and moon, She sware by grass and corn, She hadna seen him, young Redin, Since Monanday at morn. "It's surely been my bower-woman,-- O ill may her betide! I ne'er wad hae slain my young Redin, And thrown him in the Clyde." Now they hae cut baith fern and thorn, The bower-woman to brin; And they hae made a big balefire, And put this maiden in; But the fire it took na on her cheek, It took na on her chin. Out they hae ta'en the bower-woman, And put her mistress in; The flame took fast upon her cheek, Took fast upon her chin, Took fast upon her fair bodie, Because of her deadly sin. * * * * * WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET. Willie stands in his stable, A-clapping of his steed; And over his white fingers His nose began to bleed. "Gie corn to my horse, mither; Gie meat unto my man; For I maun gang to Margaret's bower, Before the night comes on." "O stay at home, my son Willie! The wind blaws cold and stour; The night will be baith mirk and late, Before ye reach her bower."