16 And they've til his true-love gane, Thinking he was wi her; . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 'I hae na seen him Young Redin Sin yesterday at noon; He turnd his stately steed about, And hied him throw the toun. 18 'But ye'll seek Clyde's Water up and doun, Ye'll seek it out and in; I hae na seen him Young Redin Sin yesterday at noon.' 19 Then up bespak Young Redin's mither, And a dowie woman was scho: 'There's na a place in Clyde's Water But my son wad gae throw.' 20 They've sought Clyde's Water up and doun, They've sought it out and in, And the deepest place in Clyde's Water They've fund Young Redin in. 21 O white, white war his wounds washen, As white as a linen clout; But as the traitor she cam near, His wounds they gushit out. 22 'It's surely been my bouer-woman, O ill may her betide! I neer wad slain him Young Redin, And thrown him in the Clyde.' 23 Then they've made a big bane-fire, The bouer-woman to brin; It tuke not on her cheek, her cheek, It tuke not on her chin, But it tuke on the cruel hands That pat Young Redin in. 24 Then they've tane out the bouer-woman, And pat the ladie in; It tuke na on her cheek, her cheek, It tuke na on her chin, But it tuke on the fause, fause arms That Young Redin lay in. C Harris MS., fol. 8, from Mrs Harris, Perthshire. 1 The ladie stude in her bour-door, In her bour-door as she stude, She thocht she heard a bridle ring, That did her bodie gude. 2 She thocht it had been her father dear, Come ridin owre the sand; But it was her true-love Riedan, Come hiean to her hand. 3 'You're welcome, you're welcome, Young Riedan,' she said, 'To coal an cannel-licht; You're welcome, you're welcome, Young Riedan, To sleep in my bour this nicht.' 4 'I thank you for your coal, madame, An for your cannel tae; There's a fairer maid at Clyde's Water, I love better than you.' 5 'A fairer maid than me, Riedan? A fairer maid than me? A fairer maid than ten o me You shurely neer did see.' 6 He leant him owre his saddle-bow, To gie her a kiss sae sweet; She keppit him on a little penknife, An gae him a wound sae deep. 7 'Oh hide! oh hide! my bourswoman, Oh hide this deed on me! An the silks that waur shappit for me at Yule At Pasch sall be sewed for thee.' 8 They saidled Young Riedan, they bridled Young Riedan, The way he was wont to ride; Wi a huntin-horn aboot his neck, An a sharp sword by his side.