“Take ye the blossom of the broom,
“The blossom it smells sweet,
“And strew it at your true love’s
head,
“And likewise at his feet.
“Take ye the rings off your fingers,
“Put them on his right hand,
“To let him know, when he doth awake,
“His love was at his command.”
She pu’d the broom flower on Hive-hill,
And strew’d on’s white
hals bane,
And that was to be wittering true,
That maiden she had gane.
“O where were ye, my milk-white
steed,
“That I hae coft sae dear,
“That wadna watch and waken me,
“When there was maiden here?”
“I stamped wi’ my foot, master,
“And gar’d my bridle
ring;
“But na kin’ thing wald waken
ye,
“Till she was past and gane.”
“And wae betide ye, my gay goss
hawk,
“That I did love sae dear,
“That wadna watch and waken me,
“When there was maiden here.”
“I clapped wi’ my wings, master,
“And aye my bells I rang,
“And aye cry’d, waken, waken,
master,
“Before the ladye gang.”
“But haste and haste, my good white
steed,
“To come the maiden till,
“Or a’ the birds, of gude
green wood,
“Of your flesh shall have
their fill.”
“Ye need na burst your good white
steed,
“Wi’ racing o’er
the howm;
“Nae bird flies faster through the
wood,
“Than she fled through the
broom.”
PROUD LADY MARGARET.
This Ballad was communicated to the Editor by Mr HAMILTON, Music-seller, Edinburgh, with whose Mother it had been a, favourite. Two verses and one line were wanting, which are here supplied from a different Ballad, having a plot somewhat similar. These verses are the 6th and 9th.
’Twas on a night, an evening bright,
When the dew began to fa’,
Lady Margaret was walking up and down,
Looking o’er her castle
wa’.
She looked east, and she looked west,
To see what she could spy,
When a gallant knight came in her sight,
And to the gate drew nigh.
“You seem to be no gentleman,
“You wear your boots
so wide;
“But you seem to be some cunning
hunter,
“You wear the horn so
syde."[A]
“I am no cunning hunter,”
he said,
“Nor ne’er intend
to be;
“But I am come to this castle
“To seek the love of
thee;
“And if you do not grant me love,
“This night for thee
I’ll die.”
“If you should die for me, sir knight,
“There’s few for
you will mane,
“For mony a better has died for
me,
“Whose graves are growing
green.
“But ye maun read my riddle,”
she said,
“And answer my questions
three;
“And but ye read them right,”
she said,
“Gae stretch ye out
and die.—
“Now, what is the flower, the ae
first flower,
“Springs either on moor or
dale?
“And what is the bird, the bonnie
bonnie bird,
“Sings on the evening gale?”