At Otterburn begane this spurne
Monnynday;

uppone a

Ther was the doughtë Doglas slean, the Perse never went away.

Ther was never a tym on the Marche-partes
sen the Doglas and the Persë met,

But yt ys mervele and the rede blude ronne not as the reane doys in the stret.

Jhesue Crist our balys bete,

and to the blys us brynge!

Thus was the hountynge of the Chivyat:
God send us alle good endyng!

SIR PATRICK SPENS

(From Percy's Reliques, pub. 1765. Date uncertain, but a

popular ballad in 1580)

The King sits in Dumferling toune,
Drinking the blude-reid wine;

'O whar will I get guid sailor,
To sail this schip of mine?'

Up and spak an eldern knicht,
Sat at the king's richt kne:
'Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor,
That sails upon the se.'

The king has written a braid letter,
And signed it wi his hand,

And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,
Was walking on the sand.

The first line that Sir Patrick red,
A loud lauch lauched he;

The next line that Sir Patrick red
The teir blinded his ee.

'O wha is this has don this deid,
This ill deid don to me,

To send me out this time o' the yeir,
To sail upon the se!

'Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all, Our guid schip sails the morne:'

'O say na sae, my master deir,

For I feir a deadlie storme.

'Late late yestreen I saw the new moone,
Wi the auld moone in hir arme,
And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
That we will cum to harme.'

O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
To weet their cork-heild schoone;
Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,
Thair hats they swam aboone.

O lang, lang may their ladies sit,
Wi thair fans into their hand,
Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence
Cum sailing to the land.

O lang, lang may the ladies stand,
Wi thair gold kems in their hair,
Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
For they'll se thame na mair.

Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,

It's fiftie fadom deip,

And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, Wi the Scots lords at his feit.

WALY, WALY, LOVE BE BONNIE

(From Allingham's Ballad Book, 1864)

O Waly, waly, up the bank,

O waly, waly, doun the brae, And waly, waly, yon burn-side,

Where I and my love wer wont to gae! I lean'd my back unto an aik,

I thocht it was a trustie tree,
But first it bow'd and syne it brak',—
Sae my true love did lichtlie me.

O waly, waly, but love be bonnie
A little time while it is new!
But when it's auld it waxeth cauld,

And fadeth awa' like the morning dew.
O wherefore should I busk my heid,
Or wherefore should I kame my hair?
For my true love has me forsook,

And says he 'll never lo'e me mair.

Noo Arthur's Seat sall be my bed,

The sheets sall ne'er be press'd by me; Saint Anton's well sall be my drink; Since my true love's forsaken me. Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, whan wilt thou come? For of my life I am wearie.

'Tis not the frost that freezes fell,

Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie, 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry;

But my love's heart grown cauld to me. When we cam' in by Glasgow toun, We were a comely sicht to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, An' I mysel' in cramasie.

But had I wist before I kiss'd
That love had been so ill to win,
I'd lock'd my heart in a case o' goud,
And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin.
Oh, oh! if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee;
And I mysel' were dead and gane,

e!

And the green grass growing over me

THE TWA SISTERS O' BINNORIE (From the same)

There were twa sisters sat in a bow'r;
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

A knight cam' there, a noble wooer,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring, (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

The eldest she was vexed sair,

(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

And sair envied her sister fair,

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie."

Upon a morning fair and clear,

(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

She cried upon her sister dear,

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

'O sister, sister, tak' my hand,' (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

'And let's go down to the river-strand,' By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

She's ta'en her by the lily hand,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

And down they went to the river-strand
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

The youngest stood upon a stane,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

The eldest cam' and pushed her in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

'O sister, sister, reach your hand!' (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

'And ye sall be heir o' half my land'— By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

'O sister, reach me but your glove!' (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

'And sweet William sall be your love'— By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)

Till she cam' to the mouth o' yon mill-dam, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.