First published by Percy from his folio MS., _Reliques_, iii. 94. Several traditionary versions have since been printed, of which we give _Burd Ellen_ from Jamieson's, and in the Appendix, _Lady Margaret_ from Kinloch's collection. Jamieson also furnishes a fragment, and Buchan, (_Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 30,) a complete copy of another version of _Burd Ellen_, and Chambers (_Scottish Ballads_, 193,) makes up an edition from all the copies, which we mention here because he has taken some lines from a manuscript supplied by Mr. Kinloch. Childe Waters in his stable stoode And stroakt his milke-white steede; To him a fayre yonge ladye came As ever ware womans weede. Sayes, "Christ you save, good Childe Waters," 5 Sayes, "Christ you save and see; My girdle of gold that was too longe, Is now too short for mee. "And all is with one childe of yours I feele sturre at my side; 10 My gowne of greene it is too straighte; Before, it was too wide." "If the child be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd,[L13] "Be mine, as you tell mee, Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, 15 Take them your owne to bee. "If the childe be mine, faire Ellen," he sayd, "Be mine, as you doe sweare, Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, And make that child your heyre." 20 Shee sayes, "I had rather have one kisse, Childe Waters, of thy mouth, Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both, That lye by north and southe. "And I had rather have one twinkling, 25 Childe Waters, of thine ee, Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both, To take them mine owne to bee." "To morrowe, Ellen, I must forth ryde Farr into the north countree; 30 The fayrest lady that I can finde, Ellen, must goe with mee." "Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,[L33] Yet let me go with thee: And ever I pray you, Childe Waters, 35 Your foot-page let me bee." "If you will my foot-page bee, Ellen, As you doe tell to mee, Then you must cut your gowne of greene An inch above your knee: 40 "Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes, An inch above your ee; You must tell no man what is my name; My foot-page then you shall bee." Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, 45 Ran barefoote by his syde, Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte, To say, "Ellen, will you ryde?" Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, Ran barefoote thorow the broome, 50 Yett was hee never soe courteous a knighte, To say, "put on your shoone."