1 The lassie sang sae loud, sae loud, The lassie sang sae shill; The lassie sang, and the greenwud rang, At the farther side o yon hill. 2 Bye there cam a troop o merry gentlemen, They aw rode merry bye; The very first and the foremaist Was the first that spak to the may. 3 ‘This is a mark and misty nicht, And I have ridden wrang; If ye wad be sae gude and kind As to show me the way to gang.’ 4 ‘If ye binna the laird o Lochnie’s lands, Nor nane o his degree, I’ll show ye a nearer road that will keep you frae The glen-waters and the raging sea.’ 5 ‘I’m na the laird o Lochnie’s lands, Nor nane o his degree; But I am as brave a knicht, And ride aft in his company. 6 ‘Have ye na pity on me, pretty maid? Have ye na pity on me? Have ye na pity on my puir steed, That stands trembling by yon tree?’ 7 ‘What pity wad ye hae, kind sir? What pity wad ye hae frae me? Though your steed has neither corn nor hay, It has gerss at its liberty.’ 8 He has trysted the pretty maid Till they cam to the brume, And at the end o yon ew-buchts It’s there they baith sat doun. 9 Till up she raise, took up her milk-pails, And away gaed she hame; Up bespak her auld father, ‘It’s whare hae ye been sae lang?’ 10 ‘This is a mark and a misty nicht, Ye may gang to the door and see; The ewes hae taen a skipping out-oure the knows, They winna bucht in for me. 11 ‘I may curse my father’s shepherd; Some ill death mat he dee! He has buchted the ewes sae far frae the toun, And has trysted the young men to me.’ * * * * * J Kinloch MSS, VI, 11; in the handwriting of Dr Joseph Robertson, and given him by his mother, Christían Leslie. 1 It was a dark and a misty night, . . . . . . . And by came a troop o gentlemen, Said, Lassie, shew me the way. 2 ‘Oh well ken I by your silk mantle, And by your grass-green sleeve, That you are the maid of the Cowdenknows, And may well seem to be.’ 3 ‘I’m nae the maid of the Cowdenknows, Nor ever think to be; I am but ane of her hirewomen, Rides aft in her companie. 4 ‘Oh well do I ken by your milk-white steed, And by your merry winking ee, That you are the laird of Lochinvar, And may well seem to be.’ 5 ‘I’m nae the laird of Lochinvar, Nor may well seem to be; But I am one of his merry young men, And am oft in his companie.’ * * * * * * 6 ‘The tod was among your sheep, father, You may look forth and see; And before he had taen the lamb he’s taen I had rather he had taen three.’ 7 When twenty weeks were come and gane, Twenty weeks and three, The lassie she turned pale and wan . . . . . . .