26 ‘O here’s a letter I have brought, Which ye maun quickly read, And, gin ye woud your lady save, Gang back wi me wi speed.’ 27 O when he had the letter read, An angry man was he; He says, Glenlion, thou shalt rue This deed of villany! 28 ‘O saddle to me the black, the black, O saddle to me the brown, O saddle to me the swiftest steed That eer rade frae the town. 29 ‘And arm ye well, my merry men a’. And follow me to the glen, For I vow I’ll neither eat nor sleep Till I get my love again.’ 30 He’s mounted on a milk-white steed, The boy upon a gray, And they got to Glenlion’s castle About the close of day. 31 As Baby at her window stood, The west wind saft did bla; She heard her Johny’s well-kent voice Beneath the castle wa. 32 ‘O Baby, haste, the window jump! I’ll kep you in my arm; My merry men a’ are at the yate, To rescue you frae harm.’ 33 She to the window fixt her sheets And slipped safely down, And Johny catchd her in his arms, Neer loot her touch the ground. 34 When mounted on her Johny’s horse, Fou blithely did she say, ‘Glenlion, you hae lost your bride! She’s aff wi Johny Hay.’ 35 Glenlion and his brother John Were birling in the ha, When they heard Johny’s bridle ring, As first he rade awa. 36 ‘Rise, Jock, gang out and meet the priest, I hear his bridle ring; My Baby now shall be my wife Before the laverocks sing.’ 37 ‘O brother, this is not the priest; I fear he’ll come oer late; For armed men with shining brands Stand at the castle-yate.’ 38 ‘Haste Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh! Haste, take your sword and spier! We’ll gar these traytors rue the hour That eer they ventured here.’ 39 The Highland men drew their claymores, And gae a warlike shout, But Johny’s merry men kept the yate, Nae ane durst venture out. 40 The lovers rade the live-lang night, And safe gat on their way, And bonny Baby Livingston Has gotten Johny Hay. 41 ‘Awa, Glenlion! fy for shame! Gae hide ye in some den! You’ve lettn your bride be stown frae you. For a’ your armed men.’ * * * * * B Buchan’s MSS, I, 77. 1 Bonny Barbara Livingston Went out to take the air, When came the laird o Glenlyon And staw the maiden fair. 2 He staw her in her cloak, her cloak, He staw her in her gown; Before he let her look again, Was mony mile frae town. 3 So they rade over hills and dales, Through m[o]ny a wilsome way, Till they came to the head o yon hill, And showed her ewes and kye. 4 ‘O will ye stay with me, Barbara, And get good curds and whey? Or will ye go to Glenlyon, And be a lady gay?’