4 ‘But there is two swords in my scabba[rd], They cost me gold and money; Tak ye the best, and I’ll tak the wa[rst], An come man for man, I’ll not fly yo[u].’ 5 Ay he stood, an ay he fought, Till it was near the dawning, Then up an rose her brother James, An has slain him in the dawning. 6 ‘O the last night I dreamd a dream, God keep us a’ frae sorrow! I dreamd I was powing the heather green In the dowie banks of Yarrow.’ 7 Up she gaes on yon high, high hill, An a wat she gaes with sorrow, An in a den she spy’d nine slain men, In the dowie banks of Yarrow. 8 ‘O the last time I saw my love He was a’ clad oer in tartan; But now he’s a’ clad oer in red, An he’s a’ blood to the gartin.’ 9 She kist his mouth, an she’s combd his hair, As she had done before, O, She drank the blood that from him ran, In the dowie banks of Yarrow. 10 ‘O hold your tongue now, daughter,’ he says, ‘An breed to me no more sorrow; For I’ll wed you on a better match Than you have lost on Yarrow.’ 11 ‘Hold your tongue now, father,’ she says, ‘An breed to me no more sorrow; For a better rose will never spring Than I have lost on Yarrow.’ * * * * * N Communicated to Scott by Mrs Christiana Greenwood, London, May 27, 1806 (Letters, I, No 189); presumably learned by her at Longnewton, near Jedburgh. “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 84, Abbotsford. 1 The cock did craw, and the day did daw, And the moon shone fair and clearly; Sir James gade out o his castle-yett, To meet fair Anne, his dearie. 2 ‘O come down, come down, my true-love Anne; And speak but ae word to me! But ae kiss o your bonny mouth Wad yield much comfort to me.’ 3 ‘O how can I come down?’ she says, ‘Or how can I win to thee? When there is nane that I can trust Wad safe convey me to thee. 4 ‘But gang doun, gang doun, to yon hostess’ house, And there take on yere lawing, And, as I’m a woman kind and true, I’ll meet you at the dawing.’ 5 Then he gade thro the good green-wood, And oer the moor sae eerie, And lang he stayd, and sair he sighd, But he never mair saw his dearie. 6 And ay he sat, and lang he drank, And ay he counted his lawing, Till fifteen men did him surround, To slay him or the dawing. 7 ‘O she promisd ance to meet me this night, But I find she has deceived me; She promisd ance to meet me this night, And she’s sent fifteen to slay me! 8 ‘There are twa swords in my scabard, They cost me gowd and money; Take ye the best, and gie me the warst, And man for man I’ll try ye.’ 9 Then they fought on, and on they fought, Till maist o them were fallen, When her brother John cam him behind, And slew him at the dawing.