of the Romans, _Facinora ostendi dum puniantur, flagitia autem abscondi debent_. The ballad has a high degree of poetical merit. THE BONNY HYND. COPIED FROM THE MOUTH OF A MILKMAID, IN 1771. * * * * * O May she comes, and May she goes, Down by yon gardens green; And there she spied a gallant squire, As squire had ever been. And May she comes, and May she goes, Down by yon hollin tree; And there she spied a brisk young squire, And a brisk young squire was he. "Give me your green manteel, fair maid; "Give me your maidenhead! "Gin ye winna give me your green manteel, "Give me your maidenhead!" * * * * * "Perhaps there may be bairns, kind sir; "Perhaps there may be nane; "But, if you be a courtier, "You'll tell me soon your name." "I am nae courtier, fair maid, "But new come frae the sea; "I am nae courtier, fair maid, "But when I court with thee. "They call me Jack, when I'm abroad; "Sometimes they call me John; "But, when I'm in my father's bower, "Jock Randal is my name." "Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny lad! "Sae loud's I hear you lee! "For I'm Lord Randal's ae daughter, "He has nae mair nor me." "Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny May! "Sae loud's I hear ye lee! "For I'm Lord Randal's ae ae son, "Just now come o'er the sea." She's putten her hand down by her gare, And out she's ta'en a knife; And she has put it in her heart's bleed, And ta'en away her life. And he has ta'en up his bonny sister, With the big tear in his e'en; And he has buried his bonny sister Amang the hollins green. And syne he's hyed him o'er the dale, His father dear to see-- "Sing, Oh! and Oh! for my bonny hind, "Beneath yon hollin tree!" "What needs you care for your bonny hind? "For it you needna care; "Take you the best, gi' me the warst, "Since plenty is to spare." "I carena for your hinds, my lord; "I carena for your fee; "But, Oh! and Oh! for my bonny hind, "Beneath the hollin tree!" "O were ye at your sister's bower, "Your sister fair to see, "You'll think nae mair o' your bonny hind, "Beneath the hollin tree." * * * * * O GIN MY LOVE WERE YON RED ROSE. FROM MR HERD'S MS. * * * * * O gin my love were yon red rose, That grows upon the castle wa', And I mysell a drap of dew, Down on that red rose I would fa'. O my love's bonny, bonny, bonny; My love's bonny and fair to see: Whene'er I look on her weel far'd face, She looks and smiles again to me.