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"Your cheeks are aft-times weet, mither; You're greetin', as I can see."
"Nae wonder, nae wonder, my little son, Nae wonder though I should dee!
"For I was ance an Earl's daughter, Of n.o.ble birth and fame; And now I'm the mither o' seven sons Wha ne'er gat christendame."
He's ta'en his mither by the hand, His six brithers also, And they are on through Elmond-wood As fast as they could go.
They wistna weel wha they were gaen, And weary were their feet; They wistna weel wha they were gaen, Till they stopped at her father's gate.
"I hae nae money in my pocket, But jewel-rings I hae three; I'll gie them to you, my little son, And ye'll enter there for me.
"Ye'll gie the first to the proud porter, And he will lat you in; Ye'll gie the next to the butler-boy, And he will show you ben.
"Ye'll gie the third to the minstrel That's harping in the ha', And he'll play gude luck to the bonny boy That comes frae the greenwood shaw."
He gied the first to the proud porter, And he opened and lat him in; He gied the next to the butler-boy, And he has shown him ben;
He gied the third to the minstrel Was harping in the ha', And he played gude luck to the bonny boy That cam' frae the greenwood shaw.
Now when he cam' before the Earl, He louted on his knee; The Earl he turned him round about, And the saut tear blint his e'e.
"Win up, win up, thou bonny boy, Gang frae my companie; Ye look sae like my dear daughter, My heart will burst in three!"
"If I look like your dear daughter, A wonder it is nane; If I look like your dear daughter, I am her eldest son."
"O tell me soon, ye little wee boy, Where may my Margaret be?"
"She's e'en now standing at your gates.
And my six brithers her wi'."
"O where are a' my porter-boys That I pay meat and fee, To open my gates baith braid and wide, And let her come in to me?"
When she cam' in before the Earl, She fell doun low on her knee: "Win up, win up, my daughter dear; This day ye'se dine wi' me."
"Ae bit I canna eat, father, Ae drop I canna drink, Till I see Etin, my husband dear; Sae lang for him I think!"
"O where are a' my rangers bold That I pay meat and fee, To search the forest far and wide, And bring Hynd Etin to me?"
Out it speaks the little wee boy: "Na, na, this maunna be; Without ye grant a free pardon, I hope ye'll na him see!"
"O here I grant a free pardon, Well sealed wi' my ain han'; And mak' ye search for Hynd Etin, As sune as ever ye can."
They searched the country braid and wide, The forest far and near, And they found him into Elmond-wood, Tearing his yellow hair.
"Win up, win up now, Hynd Etin, Win up and boun' wi' me; For we are come frae the castle, And the Earl wad fain you see."
"O lat him tak' my head," he says, "Or hang me on a tree; For sin' I've lost my dear lady, My life's nae worth to me!"
"Your head will na be touched, Etin, Nor sall you hang on tree; Your lady's in her father's court, And all he wants is thee."
When he cam' in before the Earl, He louted on his knee: "Win up, win up now, Hynd Etin; This day ye'se dine wi' me."
As they were at their dinner set, The boy he asked a boon: "I wold we were in haly kirk, To get our christendoun.
"For we hae lived in gude greenwood These twelve lang years and ane; But a' this time since e'er I mind Was never a kirk within."
"Your asking's na sae great, my boy, But granted it sall be: This day to haly kirk sall ye gang, And your mither sall gang you wi'."
When she cam' to the haly kirk, She at the door did stan'; She was sae sunken doun wi' shame, She couldna come farther ben.
Then out it spak' the haly priest, Wi' a kindly word spak' he: "Come ben, come ben, my lily-flower, And bring your babes to me."
LAMKIN.
It's Lamkin was a mason good As ever built wi' stane; He built Lord Wearie's castle, But payment gat he nane.
"O pay me, Lord Wearie, Come, pay me my fee:"
"I canna pay you, Lamkin, For I maun gang o'er the sea."
"O pay me now, Lord Wearie, Come, pay me out o' hand:"
"I canna pay you, Lamkin, Unless I sell my land."
"O gin ye winna pay me, I here sall mak' a vow, Before that ye come hame again, Ye sall hae cause to rue."
Lord Wearie got a bonny s.h.i.+p, To sail the saut sea faem; Bade his lady weel the castle keep, Ay till he should come hame.
But the nourice was a fause limmer As e'er hung on a tree; She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, Whan her lord was o'er the sea.
She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, When the servants were awa', Loot him in at a little shot-window, And brought him to the ha'.
"O where's a' the men o' this house, That ca' me Lamkin?"
"They're at the barn-well thras.h.i.+ng; 'Twill be lang ere they come in."
"And where's the women o' this house, That ca' me Lamkin?"
"They're at the far well was.h.i.+ng; 'Twill be lang ere they come in."
"And where's the bairns o' this house, That ca' me Lamkin?"
"They're at the school reading; 'Twill be night or they come hame."
"O where's the lady o' this house, That ca's me Lamkin?"
"She's up in her bower sewing, But we soon can bring her down."
Then Lamkin's tane a sharp knife, That hang down by his gaire, And he has gi'en the bonny babe A deep wound and a sair.
Then Lamkin he rocked, And the fause nourice she sang, Till frae ilka bore o' the cradle The red blood out sprang.
Then out it spak' the lady, As she stood on the stair: "What ails my bairn, nourice, That he's greeting sae sair?