17 'O my horse sal eat the good white meal, An ye sal eat the corn; Then will ye curse the heavy hour That ever your love was born.' 18 'O I sal eat the good white meal, An your horse sal eat the corn; An I ay sall bless the happy hour That ever my love was born.' 19 O four an twenty gay ladies Welcomd Lord John to the ha, But a fairer lady then them a' Led his horse to the stable sta. 20 An four an twenty gay ladies Welcomd Lord John to the green, But a fairer lady than them a' At the manger stood alane. 21 Whan bells were rung, an mass was sung, An a' men boun to meat, Burd Ellen at a bye-table Amo the foot-men was set. 22 'O eat an drink, my bonny boy, The white bread an the beer:' 'The never a bit can I eat or drink, My heart's sae full of fear.' 23 'O eat an drink, my bonny boy, The white bread an the wine:' 'O I canna eat nor drink, master, My heart's sae full of pine.' 24 But out it spake Lord John's mother, An a wise woman was she: 'Whare met ye wi that bonny boy, That looks sae sad on thee? 25 'Sometimes his cheek is rosy red, An sometimes deadly wan; He's liker a woman big wi bairn, Than a young lord's serving man.' 26 'O it makes me laugh, my mother dear, Sic words to hear frae thee; He is a squire's ae dearest son, That for love has followd me. 27 'Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy, Gi my horse corn an hay:' 'O that I will, my master dear, As quickly as I may.' 28 She's taen the hay under her arm, The corn intill her han, An she's gane to the great stable, As fast as eer she can. 29 'O room ye roun, my bonny broun steeds, O room ye near the wa; For the pain that strikes me thro my sides Full soon will gar me fa.' 30 She's leand her back against the wa; Strong travail seizd her on; An even amo the great horse feet Burd Ellen brought forth her son. 31 Lord John'[s] mither intill her bowr Was sitting all alone, Whan, i the silence o the night, She heard fair Ellen's moan. 32 'Won up, won up, my son,' she says, 'Go se how a' does fare; For I think I hear a woman's groans, An a bairn greeting sair.' 33 O hastily he gat him up, Stayd neither for hose nor shoone, An he's doen him to the stable-door, Wi the clear light o the moon. 34 He strack the door hard wi his foot, An sae has he wi his knee, An iron locks an iron bars Into the floor flung he: 'Be not afraid, Burd Ellen,' he says, 'Ther's nane come in but me.' 35 Up he has taen his bonny young son, An gard wash him wi the milk; An up has he taen his fair lady, Gard row her in the silk.