MINSTRELSY SCOTTISH BORDER. IN THREE PARTS. n^vi ^: JVilNSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER: CONSISTING OP HISTORICAL AND ROMANTIC BALLADS, COLLECTED IN THE SOUTHERN COUNTIES OF SCOTLAND ; WITH A FEW OF MODERN DATE, FOUNDED UPON LOCAL TRADITION. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. The songs, to savage virtue dear. of the ear That won yore public ; Ere Polity, sedate and sage. Had quench'd the fires of feudal rage. KELSO: PRINTED BY JAMES BAtLANTYNE, FOR T. CADELL, JUN. AND W. DAVIES, STRAND, LONDON AND SOLD BY MANNERS AND MILLER, AND A. CONSTABLE, EDINBUUGII- 1802. MINSTRELSY SCOTTISH BORDER. PART SECOND. ROMANTIC BALLADS. CONTENTS TO THE SECOND VOLUME. ROMANTIC BALLADS. Page Scotish Music, an Ode 1 The Gay Goss Hawk 7 Brown Adam l6 Jellon Grame 20 Willie's Ladye 27 Clerk Saunders 33 Earl Richard 42 The Lass of Lochroyan 49 Rose the Red and White Lilly 60 Fause Foodrage 7^ Kempion 84 Lord Thomas and Fair Annie 102 The Wife of Usher's Well Ill Cospatrick 117 Prince Robert 124 King Henrie 129 Annan Water 138 The Cruel Sister 143 Lament of the Queen's Marie 151 The Flowers of the Forest, Part 1 156 , Part II l6l The Laird of Muirhead l65 Introduction to the Tale of Tamlane 167 The Young Tamlane 228 Thomas the Rhymer, Part 1 244 Part II 257 Part III 283 The Bonny Hynd 296 O gin my Love were yon Red Rose 302 O tell me how to Woo Thee 304 IMITATIONS OF THE ANCIENT BALLAD. The Eve of St John 309 Lord Soulis 327 The Cout of Keeldar 355 Glenfinlas, or Lord Ronald's Coronach 374 SGOTISH MUSIC. AN ODE. BY J. LEYDEN. TO lANTHE. Again, sweet Syren, breathe again strain That deep, pathetic, powerful ; Whose melting tones, of saddest woe, Fall soft as evening's summer dew. That bathes the pinks and harebells blue i; s Which in the vales of Tiviot blow. Such was the song that soothed to rest, Far in the green isle of the west. The Celtic warrior's shade parted ; Such are the lonely sounds that sweep O'er the blue bosom of the deep, / Where ship-wrecked mariners are laid. Vol. II. A Fair was her cheek's carnation glow. Like red blood on a wreath of snow ; Like evening's dewy star her eye : While, as the sea mew's downy breast. Borne on the surge's foamy crest. Her graceful bosom heaved the sigh. In youth's first morn, alert and gay, Ere rolling years had passed away. Remembered like a morning dream, I heard these dulcet measures float. In many a liquid winding note. Along the banks of Teviot's stream. Sweet sounds ! that oft have soothed to rest The sorrows of my guileless breast. And charmed away mine infant tears : Fond memory shall your strains repeat. Like distant echoes, doubly sweet. That in the wild the traveller hears. And thus, the exiled Scotian maid. By fond alluring love betrayed, visit shore To Syria's date-crowned ; In plaintive strains, that soothed despair. " Did Bothwell's banks that bloom so fair," And scenes of early youth, deplore. Soft Syren ! whose enchanting strain Floats wildly round my raptured brain, I bid your pleasing haunts adieu ! Yet, fabling fancy oft shall lead My footsteps to the silver Tweed, Thro' scenes that I no more must view. A 3 NOTES SCOTISH MUSIC, AN ODE. Tar in the green isle of the west. P. 1 . Verse 2. The Flathinnis, or Celtic paradJse. Ah ! sure, as Hind& legends tell. P. 2. Verse 1. The effect of music is explained by the Hindus, as recalling to our memory the airs of paradise heard in a state of pre-existence. Vide S a- contala. '' Did 'Both-well's banks that bloom so fair." P. 4. Verse 4. " So fell it out of late years, that an English gentleman, travelling in Palestine, not ftr from Jerusalem, as he passed through a country town, he heard, by chance, a woman sitting at her door, dandling her child, to sing Bothiuel bank thou hlumest fair. The gentleman hereat exceed- ingly wondered, and forth%vith, in English, saluted the woman, who and said she there to see a joyfully answered him } was right glad gen- tleman of our isle : and told him that she was a Scotish woman, and came first from Scotland to Venice, and from Venice thither, where her of officer under tlie fortune was to be the wife an Turk } who being at that instant absent, and very soon to return, she intreated the gentleman until his return. which he did and for to stay there The ; she, country sake, to shew herself the more kind and bountiful unto him, told her hus- his that the was her kinsman band at home-coming, gentleman ; where- husband entertained him and at his upon her very kindly ; departure gave him divers things of good y^luc^'Ventlgan's Restitution of Decayed In- the Stmamtt our y^ncient Families. telligence. Chat. Of of Antwerp, 1605. .tf<!'ia.*v'n|( THE GAY GOSS HAWK. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. This ballad is published partly from one, under this title, in Mrs Brown's collection, and partly from a MS. of some antiquity, penes Edit. The stanzas, appearing to possess most merit, have been selectedfrom each copy. " O waly, waly, my gay goss hawk. Gin your feathering be sheen !" " And waly, waly, my master dear, Gin ye look pale and lean ! f '' O have ye tint, at tournament. Your sword or yet your spear ? Or mourn ye for the southern lass. Whom you may not win near ?" A 4 '* I have not tint, at tournament. nor My sword, yet my spear ; But sair I mourn for my true love, Wi' mony a bitter tear. " But weel's me on ye, my gay goss hawk. can baith flee Ye speak and ; Ye sail carry a letter to my love. Bring an answer back to me." '' But how sail I your true love find. Or how suld I her know \ I bear a tongue, ne'er wi' her spake. An eye that ne'er her saw." " O weel sail ye my true love ken, Sae sune as her see ye ; For, of a' the flowers of fair England, The fairest flower is she. ** The red, that's on my true love's cheik. Is like blood on the drops snaw ; The white, that is on her breast bare. Like the down o' the white sea-maw. 9 *' And even at my love's bour door. a birk There grows flowering ; And yie maun sit and sing thereon, As she gangs to the kirk, '' And four and twenty fair ladyes , Will to the mass repair ; But weel may ye my ladye ken. The fairest ladye there." Lord William has written a love letter. it his Put under pinion gray ; And he is awa to southern land. As fast as wings can gae. And even at that ladie's hour. a birk There grew flowering ; And he sat down and sang thereon. As she gaed to the kirk. And weel he kent that ladye feir, her maidens free Amang ; For the flower that springs in May morning Was not sae sweet as she. 10 And first he sang a low low note. a clear And syne he sang ; And aye the o'er word of the sang Was " Your love can no win here." " Feast on, feast on, my maidens a' : The wine flows you amang : While I gang to my shot window, And hear yon bonny bird's sang. " Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird. The sang ye sung yestreen ; For weel 1 ken, by your sweet singing. Ye are frae mv true love sen'."^- O first he sang a merry sang. he a And syne sang grave ; And syne he peck'd his feathers gray> To her the letter gave. " Have there a letter from Lord William ; He says he's sent ye three : He canna wait your love langer. But for your sake he'll die." 11 " Gae bid hiin bake his bridal bread. And brew his bridal ale ; And I sail meet him at Mary's kirk, ;A ^ Lang, lang, ere it be stale." Tlie ladye's gane to her chamber. And a moanfu' woman was she ; As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash*,. And were about to die. iv ?' -vi '^ A boon, a boon, my father deir, A boon I beg of thee !" *' Ask not that paughty Scotish lord. For him you ne'er shall see. ^' But, for your honest asking else, Weel granted it shall be." " Then, gin I die in southern land. In Scotland gar bury me. ,. .; v, " And the first kirk that ye come to, the mass be Ye's gar sung ; And the next kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the bells be rang. * Brash Sickness. " And, when ye come to St Mary's kirk, Ye's tarry there till night." And so her father pledged his word. And so his promise plight. She has ta'en her to her bigly hour. As fast as she could fare ; And she has drank a sleepy draught. That she had mixed wi' care. And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek. was sae of blee That bright ; And she seemed to be as surely dead. As any one could be. They drapt a drap o' the burning red gowd. it her They drapt on chin ; *' And ever alas !" her mother cried, ** There is nae life within !" They drapt a drap o' the burning red gowd.