  IThe young lords o’ the north country Have all a-wooing gone, To win the love of Lady Maisry, But o’ them she wou’d hae none. IIO they hae courted Lady Maisry Wi’ a’ kin kind of things; An’ they hae sought her Lady Maisry Wi’ brooches an’ wi’ rings. IIIAn’ they ha’ sought her Lady Maisry Frae father and frae mother; An’ they ha’ sought her Lady Maisry Frae sister an’ frae brother. IVAn’ they ha’ follow’d her Lady Maisry Thro’ chamber an’ thro’ ha’; But a’ that they cou’d say to her, Her answer still was Na. V‘O haud your tongues, young men,’ she says, ‘An’ think nae mair o’ me; For I’ve gi’en my love to an English lord, An’ think nae mair o’ me.’ VIHer father’s kitchy-boy heard that, An ill death may he dee! An’ he is on to her brother, As fast as gang cou’d he. VII‘O is my father an’ my mother well, But an’ my brothers three? Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well, There’s naething can ail me.’— VIII‘Your father an’ your mother is well, But an’ your brothers three; Your sister Lady Maisry’s well, So big wi’ bairn gangs she.’ IX‘Gin this be true you tell to me, My malison light on thee! But gin it be a lie you tell, You sal be hangit hie.’ XHe’s done him to his sister’s bow’r, Wi’ meikle doole an’ care; An’ there he saw her Lady Maisry Kaiming her yellow hair. XI‘O wha is aught ‘That ye sae big are wi’? And gin ye winna own the truth, This moment ye sall dee.’ XIIShe turn’d her right and roun’ about, An’ the kame fell frae her han’; A trembling seiz’d her fair body, An’ her rosy cheek grew wan. XIII‘O pardon me, my brother dear, An’ the truth I’ll tell to thee; My bairn it is to Lord William, An’ he is betroth’d to me.’— XIV‘O cou’d na ye gotten dukes, or lords, Intill your ain country, That ye draw up wi’ an English dog, To bring this shame on me? XV‘But ye maun gi’ up the English lord, Whan your young babe is born; For, gin you keep by him an hour langer, Your life sall be forlorn XVI‘I will gi’ up this English blood, Till my young babe be born; But the never a day nor hour langer, Tho’ my life should be forlorn.’— XVII‘O whare is a’ my merry young men, Whom I gi’ meat and fee, To pu’ the thistle and the thorn, To burn this woman wi’?’— XVIIIShe turn’d her head on her left shoulder, Saw her girdle hang on a tree; ‘O God bless them wha gave me that, They’ll never give more to me. XIX‘O whare will I get a bonny boy, To help me in my need, To rin wi’ haste to Lord William, And bid him come wi’ speed?’— XXO out it spake a bonny boy, Stood by her brother’s side: ‘O I would run your errand, lady, O’er a’ the world sae wide. XXI‘Aft have I run your errands, lady, Whan blawn baith win’ and weet; But now I’ll rin your errand, lady, Wi’ saut tears on my cheek.’ XXIIO whan he came to broken briggs, He bent his bow and swam, An’ whan he came to the green grass growin’ He slack’d his shoone and ran. XXIIIO whan he came to Lord William’s gates, He baed But set his bent bow till his breast, An’ lightly lap’ the wa’; An’, or the porter was at the gate, The boy was i’ the ha’. XXIV |
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