'I've sene lord, and I've sene laird, Out then spack the jealous king, 'You're neither laird nor lord,' she says, 'Bot the king that wears the crown; There is not a knight in fair Scotland But to thee maun bow down.' For a' that she could do or say, Bot for the words which she had said, They hae taen young Waters, And thrown him in dungeon deep. 'Aft have I ridden thro Stirling town 'Aft have I ridden thro Stirling town They hae taen to the heiding-hill His young son in his craddle, And they hae taen to the heiding-hill They hae taen to the heiding-hill And for the words the queen had spoke LORD RANDAL 'O WHERE hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son? O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?' 'I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon; For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 'Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?' 'I din'd wi my true-love; mother, make my bed soon; For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 'What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?' 'I gat eels boiled in broo; mother, make my bed soon; For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 'What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?' 'O they swelld and they died; mother, make my bed soon; For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.' 'O I fear ye are poisond, Lord Randal, my son! THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON THERE was a youth, and a well belovd youth, And he was a esquire's son, He loved the bayliff's daughter dear, That lived in Islington. She was coy, and she would not believe That he did love her so, No, nor at any time she would But when his friends did understand And when he had been seven long years, "Many a tear have I shed for her sake All the maids of Islington Went forth to sport and play; She put off her gown of gray, And put on her puggish attire; She's up to fair London gone, Her true-love to require. As she went along the road, The weather being hot and dry, There was she aware of her true-love, She stept to him, as red as any rose, "I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me Where that thou wast born? "At Islington, kind sir," said she, "I prithee, sweetheart, canst thou tell me Whether thou dost know The bayliff's daughter of Islington?" 66 Where no man doth me know." "O stay, O stay, thou goodly youth! “O farewel grief, and welcome joy, Ten thousand times and more! For now I have seen mine own true love, That I thought I should have seen no more." LATE BALLADS LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound 'Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water?' 'O I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this, Lord Ullin's daughter. 'And fast before her father's men 'His horsemen hard behind us ride- Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, 'And by my word! the bonny bird So though the waves are raging white |