  I‘O lady, rock never your young son young One hour longer for me; For I have a sweetheart in Gareloch Wells I love thrice better than thee. II‘The very sole o’ that lady’s foot, Than thy face is mair white.’— ‘But nevertheless now, Young Hunting, Ye’ll bide in my bower this night?’ IIIShe has birl’d The good ale and the wine, Till he was as fou drunken As any wild-wood swine. IV[She has kiss’d him by] the candle-light And the charcoal burning red, And up she has ta’en Young Hunting, And she’s had him to her bed. VAnd she’s minded her on a little pen-knife That hang’d below her gare And she has gi’en Young Hunting A deep wound and a sair. VIThen up and spake the popinjay That flew abune her head: ‘Lady, keep well your green cleiding Frae good Young Hunting’s bleid!’— VII‘O better I’ll keep my green cleiding Frae good Young Hunting’s bleid Than thou canst keep thy clattering tongue That trattles in thy head.’ VIII‘O lang, lang is the winter’s night, And slowly daws There lies a dead man in my bower, And I wish he were away.’ IXShe has call’d upon her bower-maidens, She has call’d them ane by ane: ‘There lies a dead man in my bower, I wish that he were gane.’ XThey have booted and spurr’d Young Hunting As he was wont to ride— A hunting-horn about his neck, And a sharp sword by his side; And they’ve had him to the wan water, Where a’ men ca’s it Clyde. XIIn the deepest pot of Clyde-water It’s there they flang him in, And put a turf on his breast-bane To hold Young Hunting down. XIIThen up and spake the popinjay That sat upon the tree; ‘Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, And pay your maids their fee.’— XIII‘Come down, come down, my pretty bird, That sits upon the tree; I have a cage o’ beaten gold, I’ll gie it unto thee.’— XIV‘How shall I come down, how can I come down, How shall I come down to thee? The things ye said to Young Hunting, The same ye’re saying to me.’ XVShe hadna cross’d a rigg A rigg but barely ane, When she met wi’ his auld father, Came riding all alane. XVI‘Where has ye been, now, lady fair, Where has ye been sae late? We hae been seeking Young Hunting, But him we canna get.’— XVII‘Young Hunting kens a’ the fords o’ Clyde, He’ll ride them ane by ane; And though the night was ne’er so mirk, Young Hunting will be hame.’ XVIIIO there came seeking Young Hunting Mony a lord and knight, And there came seeking Young Hunting Mony a lady bright. XIXAnd it fell ance upon a day The King was bound to ride, And he has miss’d Young Hunting, Should hae ridden on his right side. XXAnd they have to his true love gane; But she sware by the thorn, ‘O I have not seen Young Hunting Since yesterday at morn. XXI‘It fears me sair in Clyde Water That he is drown’d therein!’ O they have sent for the King’s divers, To dive for Young Hunting. XXII‘Gar dive, gar dive!’ the King he cried, ‘Gar dive for gold and fee! O wha will dive for Young Hunting’s sake, Or wha will dive for me?’ XXIIIThey dived in at the tae water-bank, They dived in at the tither: ‘We can dive no more for Young Hunting, Altho’ he were our brither.’ XXIVIt fell that in that lady’s castle The King was boun to bed, And out it spake the popinjay That flew abune his head: XXV‘Leave off, leave off, your |
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