"Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown; Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae a town;" But lang ere the horse was drawn and brought to the green, O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane. "When he cam' to Glenfeldy's door, little mirth was there; 25 Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her hair; "Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye're welcome," said she, "Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see." Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben, But red and rosy grew she whene'er he sat down; 30 She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e, "O binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee." 10, 12 shun again. JOHN O' HAZELGREEN. Neither the present version of this ballad, (taken from Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 253,) nor that furnished by Kinloch, (_Jock o' Hazelgreen_, p. 206,) is at all satisfactory. Another, much superior in point of taste, but made up from four different copies, is given in Chambers's _Scottish Ballads_, p. 319. Sir W. Scott's song of _Jock o' Hazeldean_ was suggested by a single stanza of this ballad, which he had heard as a fragment, thus: "'Why weep ye by the tide ladye, Why weep ye by the tide? I'll wed ye to my youngest son, And ye shall be his bride; And ye shall be his bride, ladye, Sae comely to be seen:' But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock o' Hazeldean." As I went forth to take the air Intill an evening clear, And there I spied a lady fair Making a heavy bier. Making a heavy bier, I say, 5 But and a piteous meen; And aye she sigh'd, and said, alas! For John o' Hazelgreen. The sun was sinking in the west, The stars were shining clear; 10 When thro' the thickets o' the wood, A gentleman did appear. Says, "who has done you the wrong, fair maid, And left you here alane; Or who has kiss'd your lovely lips, 15 That ye ca' Hazelgreen?" "Hold your tongue, kind sir," she said, "And do not banter so; How will ye add affliction Unto a lover's woe? 20 For none's done me the wrong," she said, "Nor left me here alane; Nor none has kiss'd my lovely lips, That I ca' Hazelgreen." "Why weep ye by the tide, lady? 25 Why weep ye by the tide? How blythe and happy might he be Gets you to be his bride! Gets you to be his bride, fair maid, And him I'll no bemean; 30 But when I take my words again, Whom call ye Hazelgreen?