10 ‘Bot’ a cowardly ‘loon’ came him behind, Our Lady lend him sorrow! And wi a rappier pierced his heart, And laid him low on Yarrow. 11 ‘Now Douglas’ to his sister’s gane, Wi meikle dule and sorrow: ‘Gae to your luve, sister,’ he says, ‘He’s sleeping sound on Yarrow.’ 12 As she went down yon dowy den, Sorrow went her before, O; She saw her true-love lying slain Upon the braes of Yarrow. 13 ‘She swoond thrice upon his breist That was her dearest marrow; Said, Ever alace and wae the day Thou wentst frae me to Yarrow!’ 14 She kist his mouth, she kaimed his hair, As she had done before, O; She ‘wiped’ the blood that trickled doun Upon the braes of Yarrow. 15 Her hair it was three quarters lang, It hang baith side and yellow; She tied it round ‘her’ white hause-bane, ‘And tint her life on Yarrow.’ * * * * * B Murison MS., p. 105; Old Deer, Aberdeenshire. 1 Three lords sat drinking at the wine I the bonny braes o Yarrow, An there cam a dispute them between, Who was the Flower o Yarrow. 2 ‘I’m wedded to your sister dear, Ye coont nae me your marrow; I stole her fae her father’s back, An made her the Flower o Yarrow.’ 3 ‘Will ye try hearts, or will ye try hans, I the bonnie brace o Yarrow? Or will ye try the weel airmt sword, I the bonnie braes o Yarrow?’ 4 ‘I winna try hearts, I winna try hans, I the bonnie braes o Yarrow, But I will try the weel airmt sword, I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’ 5 ‘Ye’ll stay at home, my own good lord, Ye’ll stay at home tomorrow; My brethren three they will slay thee, I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’ 6 ‘Bonnie, bonnie shines the sun, An early sings the sparrow; Before the clock it will strike nine An I’ll be home tomorrow.’ 7 She’s kissed his mouth, an combed his hair, As she had done before, O; She’s dressed him in his noble bow, An he’s awa to Yarrow. 8 As he gaed up yon high, high hill, An doon the dens o Yarrow, An there he spied ten weel airmt men I the bonnie braes o Yarrow. 9 It’s five he wounded, an five he slew, I the bonnie braes o Yarrow; There cam a squire out o the bush, An pierced his body thorough. 10 ‘I dreamed a dream now sin the streen, God keep us a’ fae sorrow! That my good lord was sleepin soun I the bonnie braes o Yarrow.’ 11 ‘O hold your tongue, my daughter dear, An tak it not in sorrow; I’ll wed you wi as good a lord As you’ve lost this day in Yarrow.’ 12 ‘O haud your tongue, my father dear, An wed your sons wi sorrow; For a fairer flower neer sprang in May nor June Nor I’ve lost this day in Yarrow.’ 13 Fast did she gang, fast did she rin, Until she cam to Yarrow, An there she fan her own good lord, He was sleepin soun in Yarrow.