"Oweel sall ye my true-love ken,
Sae sune as ye her see;

For of a' the flowers of fair England,
The fairest flower is she.

"The red that's on my true-love's cheek, 25
Is like blood-drops on the snaw;

The white, that is on her breast bare,
Like the down o' the white sea-maw.

,,

"And even at my love's bour-door
There grows a flowering birk;
And ye maun sit and sing thereon,
As she gangs to the kirkas |

"And four-and-twenty fair ladies
Will to the mass repair 7
But weel may ye my lady ken,

The fairest lady there."

Lord William has written a love-letter,

Put it under his pinion gray;

And he is awa' to Southern land,
As fast as wings can gae.

}

And even at that lady's bour,

There grew a flowering birk';

And he sat down and sung thereon,
As she gaed to the kirk.

And weel he kent that lady fair
Amang her maidens free,

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35

40

45

For the flower that springs in May morning
Was not sae sweet as she. /

And first he sang a low, low note,
And syne he sang a clear;

And aye

the o'erword o' 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 I ken, by your sweet singing,
Ye are frae my true-love sen'."

O first he sang a merry sang,
And syne he sang a grave;

And syne

he peck'd his feathers gray,

To her the letter gave.

50

55

60

"Have there a letter from Lord William; 65

He says he's sent ye three; He canna wait your love langer, But for your sake he 'll die."

"Gae bid him bake his bridal bread,
And brew his bridal ale;

And I sall meet him at Mary's kirk,
Lang, lang ere it be stale."

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The lady'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.

75

"A boon, a boon, my father dear,

A boon I beg of thee!"

66

Ask not that paughty Scottish lord,
For him you ne'er shall see.

80

"But, for your honest asking else,
Weel granted it shall be.”
“Then, gin I die in Southern land,

In Scotland gar bury me.

"And the first kirk that ye come to, Ye'se gar the mass be sung;

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And the next kirk that ye come to,
Ye'se gar the bells be rung;

"And when ye come to St. Mary's kirk,
Ye'se tarry there till night."
And so her father pledged his word,
And so his promise plight.

She has ta'en her to her bigly bour,
As fast as she could fare,

And she has drank a sleepy draught,
That she had mix'd wi' care.

And pale, pale grew her rosy cheek,
That was sae bright of blee;

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95

66

And she seemed to be as surely dead
As any one could be.

100

They drapt a drap o' the burning red gowd,

They drapt it on her chin;

And ever alas!" her mother cried,
"There is nae life within."

They drapt a drap o' the burning red

gowd,

They drapt it on her breast-bane;

"Alas!" her seven bauld brothers said, “Our sister's dead and gane."

Then

up arose her seven brethren, And hew'd to her a bier; They hew'd it frae the solid aik, Laid it o'er wi' silver clear.

Then up and gat her seven sisters,
And sewed to her a kell;......
And every steek that they pat in,
Sewed to a siller bell.

The first Scots kirk that they cam to,
They gar'd the bells be rung;
The next Scots kirk that they cam to,
They gar'd the mass be sung.

But when they cam to St. Mary's kirk, There stude spearmen all on raw;

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And up and started Lord William,

The chieftain amang them a'.

doub"Set down, set down the bier," he said; 125 "Let me look her upon.",,!!

But as soon as Lord William touched her hand,...

Her colour began to come.

She brightened like the lily-flower,
Till her pale colour was gone;
With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, :
She smiled her love upon.

"A morsel of your bread, my lord,
And one glass of your wine';

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For I ha'e fasted these three lang days, 135 "All for your sake and mine.

"Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld

brothers,

Gae hame and blaw your horn!

I trow you wad ha'e gi'en me the skaith,
But I've gi'en you the scorn."

"Ah! woe to you, you light woman;
An ill death may you die!

For we left father and mother at hame,
Breaking their hearts for thee."

Scott, Minst. Scot. Bord.

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