Gae ye a steed was swift in need,
A saddle o' royal bend;

A hunder pund o' pennies round,
Bade you gae rove an' spend.

A couple o' hounds o' ae litter,
Caen they caa'd the ane;

Twa gay goss-hawks as swift's e'er flew,
To keep ye on thought lang.

But since this day ye 've brake your vows,
For which ye're sair to blame;
And since nae mair I'll get o' you,
O Caen, will ye gae hame?

O Caen! O Caen! the ladye cried,
And Caen he did her ken;

They baith flapp'd round the ladye's knee,
Like a couple o' armed men.

He's to his bride wi' hat in hand,
And hail'd her courteouslie!

Sit down by me, my bonny Bondwell,
What makes this courtesie?

An askin', askin', fair ladye,
An askin' ye 'll grant me;
Ask on, ask on, my bonny Bondwell,
What may your askins be?

Five hunder pund to ye I'll gie,

O' gowd an' white monie,

If ye 'll wed John, my ain cousin,

He looks as fair as me.

Keep well your monie, Bondwell, she said,

Nae monie I ask o' thee;

Your cousin John was my first luve,

My husband now he's be.

Bondwell was married at morning air,

John in the afternuin;

Dame Essels is ladye ower a' the bouirs,
And the high towers o' Linne.

II.

Tam-a-Line, the Elfin Knicht.

TAKE warnin', a' ye ladyes fair,
That wear gowd on your hair;
Come never unto Charter-woods,
For Tam-a-line he's there.

Even about that knicht's middle
O' siller bells are nine;

Nae ane comes to Charter-woods,
And a may returns agen.

Ladye Margaret sits in her bouir door,
Sewing at her silken seam;

And she lang'd to gang to Charter-woods
To pou the roses green.

She hadna pou'd a rose, a rose,

Nor braken a branch but ane;

Till by it came him true Tam-a-line,
Says, Ladye, lat alane.

O why pou ye the rose, the rose ?
Or why brake ye the tree?
Or why come ye to Charter-woods
Without leave ask'd of me?

I will pou the rose, the rose,

And I will brake the tree; Charter-woods are a' my ain, I'll ask nae leave o' thee.

He's taen her by the milk-white hand,
And by the grass-green sleeve;
And laid her low on gude green wood,
At her he spier'd nae leave.

When he had got his will o' her,
His will as he had ta'en;

He's ta'en her by the middle sma',

Set her to feet again.

She turn'd her richt and round about,
To spier her true love's name;

But naething heard she, nor naething saw,
As a' the woods grew dim.

Seven days she tarried there,

Saw neither sun nor muin;

At length, by a sma' glimmerin' licht,
Came thro' the wood her lane.

When she came to her father's court,

Was fine as ony queen;

But when eight months were past and gane,

Got on the gown o' green.

Then out it speaks an eldren knicht, As he stood at the yett;

Our king's dochter she gaes wi' bairn, And we 'll get a' the wyte.

O haud your tongue, ye eldren man, And bring me not to shame; Although that I do gang wi' bairn, Yese naeways get the blame.

Were my love but an earthly man,
As he's an elfin knicht;

I wadna gie my ain true luve,
For a' that's in my sicht.

Then out it speaks her brither dear,
He meant to do her harm;

There is an herb in Charter-woods
Will twine you an' the bairn.

She's taen her mantle her about,
Her coiffer by the band;
And she is on to Charter-woods,
As fast as she cou'd gang.

She hadna poud a rose, a rose,
Nor braken a branch but ane,

Till by it came him, Tam-a-Line,
Says, Ladye, lat alane.