Ballad Book Part 29

Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben, But red rosy grew she whene'er he sat down; She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e; "O binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee."

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR

It fell about the Martinmas time, And a gay time it was than, That our gudewife had puddings to mak'

And she boil'd them in the pan.

The wind blew cauld frae east and north, And blew intil the floor; Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife, "Get up and bar the door."

"My hand is in my hussyskep, Gudeman, as ye may see; An it shou'dna be barr'd this hunder year, It's ne'er be barr'd by me."

They made a paction 'tween them twa, They made it firm and sure, That the first word whaever spak, Should rise and bar the door.

Than by there came twa gentlemen, At twelve o'clock at night, Whan they can see na ither house, And at the door they light.

"Now whether is this a rich man's house, Or whether is it a poor?"

But ne'er a word wad ane o' them speak, For barring of the door.

And first they ate the white puddings, And syne they ate the black: Muckle thought the gudewife to hersell, Yet ne'er a word she spak.

Then ane unto the ither said, "Here, man, tak ye my knife; Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard, And I'll kiss the gudewife."

"But there's na water in the house, And what shall we do than?"

"What ails ye at the pudding bree That boils into the pan?"

O up then started our gudeman, An angry man was he; "Will ye kiss my wife before my een, And scaud me wi' pudding bree?"

O up then started our gudewife, Gied three skips on the floor; "Gudeman, ye've spak the foremost word; Get up and bar the door."

THE LAWLANDS O' HOLLAND.

"The luve that I hae chosen, I'll therewith be content; The saut sea sail be frozen Before that I repent.

Repent it sall I never Until the day I dee; But the Lawlands o' Holland Hae twinned my luve and me.

"My luve he built a bonny s.h.i.+p, And set her to the main, Wi' twenty-four brave mariners To sail her out and hame.

But the weary wind began to rise, The sea began to rout, And my luve and his bonny s.h.i.+p Turned withers.h.i.+ns about.

"There sall nae mantle cross my back, No kaim gae in my hair, Sall neither coal nor candle-light s.h.i.+ne in my bower mair; Nor sall I choose anither luve Until the day I dee, Sin' the Lawlands o' Holland Hae twinned my luve and me."

"Noo haud your tongue, my daughter dear, Be still, and bide content; There are mair lads in Galloway; Ye needna sair lament."

"O there is nane in Galloway, There's nane at a' for me.

I never lo'ed a lad but ane, And he's drowned i' the sea."

THE TWA CORBIES.

As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a maen; The tane into the t'ither did say, "Whaur shall we gang and dine the day?"

"O doun beside yon auld fail d.y.k.e, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; Nae living kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair,

"His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wildfowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, Sae we may mak' our dinner sweet.

"O we'll sit on his white hause bane, And I'll pyke out his bonny blue e'en, Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair, We'll theek our nest when it blaws bare.

"Mony a ane for him makes maen, But nane shall ken whaur he is gane; Over his banes when they are bare, The wind shall blaw for evermair."

HELEN OF KIRCONNELL.

I wad I were where Helen lies; Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies On fair Kirconnell lea!

Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms burd Helen dropt, And died to succor me!

O think na but my heart was sair When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair!

I laid her down wi' meikle care On fair Kirconnell lea.

As I went down the water-side, Nane but my foe to be my guide, Nane but my foe to be my guide, On fair Kirconnell lea;

I lighted down my sword to draw, I hacked him in pieces sma', I hacked him in pieces sma', For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare!

I'll make a garland of thy hair Shall bind my heart for evermair Until the day I dee.

O that I were where Helen lies!

Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says, "Haste and come to me!"

O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!

If I were with thee, I were blest, Where thou lies low and takes thy rest On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wad my grave were growing green, A winding-sheet drawn ower my een, And I in Helen's arms lying, On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wad I were where Helen lies; Night and day on me she cries; And I am weary of the skies, Since my Love died for me.

WALY WALY.

O waly waly up the bank, And waly waly down the brae, And waly waly yon burn-side Where I and my Love wont to gae!