Francis James Child

“ Riding many's the mile.
'Have you any gold, brother?' she says,
'Or have you any fee?
Or did you come to see your ain sister a hanging,
Like a dog, upon a tree?'
'I have no gold, sister,' he says,
'Nor have I any fee'
But I am come to see my ain sister hanged,
And hanged she shall be.'
'Hey the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom,
The broom o the Cathery Knowes!
I wish I were at hame again,
Milking my ain daddie's ewes.
'Hold your hand, dear judge,' she says,
'O hold your hand for a while!
For yonder I see my own true-love coming,
Riding full many a mile. ”

“ Nor come to set thee free,
But I have come to see thee hung,
Upon this gallows-tree.'
'Stop, stop! . . .
. . . . .
I think I see my father coming,
. . . . .
'O father, hast brought my golden ball,
And come to set me free?
. . . . .
. . . . . ”