English and Scottish Ballads, Volume III

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts

"I will not light, I cannot light,
    I cannot light at all;
  A fairer lady than ten of thee                                      15
    Is waiting at Richard's-wall."

  He stooped from his milk-white steed,
    To kiss her rosy cheek;
  She had a penknife in her hand,
    And wounded him so deep.                                          20

  "O lie ye there, Earl Richard," she says,
    "O lie ye there till morn;
  A fairer lady than ten of me
    Will think lang of your coming home."

  She called her servants ane by ane,                                 25
    She called them twa by twa:
  "I have got a dead man in my bower,
    I wish he were awa."

  The ane has ta'en him by the hand,
    And the other by the feet;                                        30
  And they've thrown him in a deep draw well,
    Full fifty fathoms deep.

  Then up bespake a little bird,
    That sat upon a tree:
  "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady,                                 35
    And pay your maids their 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."                                           40

  "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady,
    And pay your maids their fee;
  As ye have done to Earl Richard,
    Sae wud ye do to me."

  "If I had an arrow in my hand,                                      45
    And a bow bent on a string;
  I'd shoot a dart at thy proud heart,
    Among the leaves sae green."




YOUNG REDIN.

    "From the recitation of Miss E. Beattie, of Edinburgh, a native of
    Mearnsshire, who sings it to a plaintive, though somewhat monotonous
    air of one measure."--KINLOCH, _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 1.


  Young Redin's til the huntin gane,
    Wi' therty lords and three;
  And he has til his true-love gane,
    As fast as he could hie.

  "Ye're welcome here, my young Redin,                                 5
    For coal and candle licht;
  And sae are ye, my young Redin,
    To bide wi' me the nicht."

  "I thank ye for your licht, ladie,
    Sae do I for your coal;                                           10
  But there's thrice as fair a ladie as thee
    Meets me at Brandie's well."

  Whan they were at their supper set,
    And merrily drinking wine,
  This ladie has tane a sair sickness,                                15
    And til her bed has gane.

  Young Redin he has followed her,
    And a dowie man was he;
  He fund his true-love in her bouer,
    And the tear was in her ee.                                       20

  Whan he was in her arms laid,
    And gieing her kisses sweet,
  Then out she's tane a little penknife,
    And wounded him sae deep.

  "O lang, lang, is the winter nicht,                                 25
    And slawly daws the day;
  There is a slain knicht in my bouer,
    And I wish he war away."

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

English and Scottish Ballads, Volume III

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