"O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice; My ain dear son is he; When other ladies get a gift, O' that ye shall get three." 60 It wasna tald into the bower, Till it went thro' the ha', That Jellyflorice and Blancheflour Were grown ower great witha'. When the queen's maids their visits paid, 65 Upo' the gude Yule day, When other ladies got horse to ride, She boud take foot and gae. The queen she call'd her stable groom, To come to her right seen; 70 Says, "Ye'll take out yon wild waith steed, And bring him to the green. "Ye'll take the bridle frae his head, The lighters frae his e'en; Ere she ride three times roun' the cross, 75 Her weel days will be dune." Jellyflorice his true love spy'd, As she rade roun' the cross; And thrice he kiss'd her lovely lips, And took her frae her horse. 80 "Gang to your bower, my lily flower, For a' my mother's spite; There's nae other amang her maids, In whom I take delight. "Ye are my jewel, and only ane, 85 Nane's do you injury; For ere this-day-month come and gang, My wedded wife ye'se be." CHIL ETHER. From Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 228. Chil Ether and Lady Maisry Were baith born at ae birth; They lov'd each other tenderlie, Boon every thing on earth. "They ley likes na the summer shower, 5 Nor girse the mornin' dew, Better, dear Lady Maisry, Than Chil Ether loves you." "The bonny doo likes na its mate, Nor babe at breast its mither, 10 Better, my dearest Chil Ether, Than Maisry loves her brither." But he needs gae to gain renown, Into some far countrie; And Chil Ether has gaen abroad, 15 To fight in Paynimie. And he has been in Paynimie A twalvemonth and a day; But never nae tidings did there come, Of his welfare to say. 20 Then she's ta'en ship, awa' to sail, Out ower the roaring faem; A' for to find him, Chil Ether, And for to bring him hame. She hadna sail'd the sea a month, 25 A month but barely three, Until she landit on Ciper's shore, By the meen-licht sae lie. Lady Maisry did on her green mantle, Took her purse in her hand, 30 And call'd to her her mariners, Syne walk'd up thro' the land. She walked up, sae did she down, Till she came till castell high; There she sat down on the door stane, 35 And weepit bitterlie.