“ SIR ARTHUR AND CHARMING MOLLEE As noble Sir Arthur one morning did ride,
With his hounds at his feet, and his sword by his side,
He saw a fair maid sitting under a tree,
He asked her name, and she said 'twas Mollee.
"Oh, charming Mollee, you my butler shall be,
To draw the red wine for yourself and for me!
Ill make you a lady so high in degree,
If you will but love me, my charming Mollee! ”

“ O when the sun was now gane down,
He's doen him till her bower;
And there, by the lee light o' the moon,
Her window she lookit o'er.
Intill a robe o' red scarlet
She lap, fearless o' harm;
And Willy was large o' lith and limb,
And keepit her in his arm.
And they've gane to the gude green-wood,
And ere the night was deen,
She's borne to him a bonny young son,
Amang the leaves sae green. ”

“ With heart full of joy to the lady he goes:
"Dear, honoured lady, I've picked up your glove,
And hope you'll be pleased to grant me your love."
"It's already granted, I will be your bride;
I love the sweet breath of a farmer," she cried. ”

“ Go, take your farmer's son,
With all my honest heart;
What tho' my name be Roger,
That goes at plough and cart?
I need not tarry long,
I soon may gain a wife:
There's buxom Joan, it is well known,
She loves me as her life. ”

“ That she shot and slew the squire, on the banks of sweet Dundee.
Her uncle overheard the noise, and hastened to the ground,
"Since you have slain the squire, I'll give you your death wound,"
"Stand off, stand off," said Mary, "undaunted I will be,"
She the trigger drew, and her uncle slew, on the banks of sweet Dundee.
The doctor he was sent for, a man of noted skill,
And likewise was a lawyer, all for to sign his will,
He willed his gold to Mary, who fought so manfully,
And closed his eyes no more to rise on the banks of sweet Dundee. ”

“ And ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead,"
And the green leaves they grow rarely.
She's ta'en out her little penknife,
Fine flowers in the valley,
And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.
She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon,
Fine flowers in the valley,
And there she's buried her sweet babe in,
And the green leaves they grow rarely. ”

“ A more merry man then I am one
Lives not in Christianté."
"Pluck up thy heart, my dear master,"
Little John can say,
"And think it is a full fair time
In a morning of May."
"The one thing grieves me," said Robin,
"And does my heart much woe,
That I may not so solemn day
To mass nor matins go.
"It is a fortnight and more," said he,
"Since I my Saviour see;
To-day will I to Nottingham," said Robin,
"With the might of mild Mary."
Then spake Much the miller son,
Ever more well him betide,
"Take twelve of thy wight yeomen
Well weaponed by thy side. ”

“ I'll live and die wi' thee."
"O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true,
Nae mair frae me ye'se gae."
"That's never my intent, my love,
As ye said, it shall be sae."
"O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true,
It's time to gae to bed."
"Wi' a' my heart, my dear marrow,
It's be as ye hae said."
Then he has staid in bower wi' her
For sax lang years and ane,
Till sax young sons to him she bare,
And the seventh she's brought hame.
But aye as ever a child was born,
He carried them away,
And brought them to his mither's care,
As fast as he could fly. ”

“ In child-bed where she lay:
"I would have you make your will, my lord
Dunwaters,
Before you go away."
"I leave to you, my eldest son,
My houses and my land;
I leave to you, my youngest son,
Ten thousand pounds in hand.
"I leave to you, my lady gay,—
You are my wedded wife,—
I leave to you, the third of my estate,
That'll keep you in a ladys life."
They had not rode a mile but one,
Till his horse fell ower a stane:
"Its a warning good enough," my lord Dunwaters said,
"Alive I'll ne'er come hame." ”

“ When summer was in prime.
"My love to her was most sincere,
Her love was great for me;
But when she hardships doth endure,
Her folly she does see."
"I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush,
The linnet o' the tree,
And bring them to my dear mither,
See if she'll merrier be."
It fell upo' another day,
This guid lord he thought lang,
And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi' him his dog and gun.
Wi' bow and arrow by his side,
He's off, single, alane;
And left his seven children to stay
Wi' their mither at hame. ”

“ For ye kenned that I was nane."—
["O false are the vows of womankind,
But fair is their false bodie;
I never wad hae trodden on Irish ground,
Had it not been for love o' thee."—]
"If I was to leave my husband dear,
And my two babes also,
O what have you to take me to,
If with you I should go?"—
"I hae seven ships upon the sea,
The eighth brought me to land;
With four-and-twenty bold mariners,
And music on every hand."
She has taken up her two little babes,
Kiss'd them baith cheek and chin;
"O fair ye weel, my ain two babes,
For I'll never see you again." ”

“ It was a' by my ain free will;
He may tarry into the fight,
For here I mean to tarry still.
"And if John Thomson ye do see,
Tell him I wish him silent sleep;
His head was not so cosily,
Nor yet sae weel, as lies at my feet."
With that he threw off his strange disguise,
Laid by the mask that he had on;
Said, "Hide me now, my lady fair,
For Violentrie will soon be hame."
"For the love I bore thee aince,
I'll strive to hide you, if I can:"
Then she put him down in a dark cellar
Where there lay many a new slain man. ”

“ There is none shall know us at fair London
town."+
"Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have,
With sumptuous array most gallant and brave,
With crozier, and mitre, and rochet, and cope,
Fit to appear Yore our father the pope."
"Now, welcome, sire abbot," the king he did say,
"'Tis well thourt come back to keep thy day:
For and if thou canst answer my questions three,
Thy life and thy living both saved shall be. ”

“ With thee, my bonny Nell;
Dear lass," cries he, "couldst fancy me?
I'se like thy person well."
"Young Roger, you re mistaken,"
The damsel then reply'd,
"I'm not in such a haste
To be a ploughman's bride;
Know I then live in hopes
To marry a farmer's son;" ”

“ That birk grew fair eneugh.
"Blow up the fire, my maidens!
Bring water from the well!
For a my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well."—
And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide;
And she's ta'en heir mantle her about,
Sat down at the bed-side.
Up then crew the red red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
"'Tis time we were away."—
(syke, marsh, sheugh, furrow.) ”

“ Is withered to a stalk.
"The stalk is withered,dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God call you away!"
PEASANT BALLADS
THE BROKEN TOKEN One summer evening, a maiden fair
Was walking forth in the balmy air,
She met a sailor upon the way;
"Maiden stay," he whispered,
"Maiden stay," he whispered,
"O pretty maiden stay.
"Why art thou walking abroad alone?
The stars are shining, the day is done."
O then her tears they began to flow,
For a dark-eyed sailor,
For a dark-eyed sailor,
Had filled her heart with woe. ”

“ Or if God and good leeching may succour thee?"
(sickerly, surely.)
"O horse, O horse, now, billy Græme,
And get thee far from hence with speed;
And get thee out of this country,
That none may know who has done the deed."—
"O I have slain thee, billy Bewick,
If this be true thou tellest to me;
But I made a vow, ere I came frae hame,
That aye the next man I wad be."
He has pitch'd his sword in a moodie-hill,
And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three,
And on his ain sword's point he lap,
And dead upon the ground fell he. ”

“ And na wi' young Donald had gone."
"Yere welcome hame, Sir Donald;
Yere welcome hame to me;
Yere welcome hame, Sir Donald,
And your bonny young lady wi' ye."
"Ye call na me Sir Donald,
But ca me Donald your son."
"Rise up, Lizzie Lindsay,
You have lain too long in the day;
You might have helped my mother
To milk her goats and her kye."
Out it spake Lizzie Lindsay,
The tear blinket her eye;
"The ladies o' Edinburgh city
They neither milk goats nor kye." ”

“ The like of whom I never did see;
"For on every finger she has a ring,
And on the mid finger she has three;
And as mickle gold aboon her brow
As would buy an earldom o' Lan' to me."
Then up it started Young Beichan,
An' swear so loud by our Lady,
"It can be nane but Susie Pye,
That has come o'er the sea to me.
(win up, get up.)
And quickly ran he down the stair;
Of fifteen steps he has made but three;
He's ta'en his bonny love in his arms,
And I wot he kissed her tenderly.
"O hae ye taen a bonny bride? ”

“ Come back again, love, and marry me."
It was long ere seven years had an end,
She long'd full sore her love to see;
She's set her foot on good shipboard,
And turn'd her back on her own country.
She's sailed up, so has she doun,
Till she came to the other side;
She's landed at young Beichan's
gates,
An I hope this day she shall be his bride.
"Is this young Beichan's gates," says she,
"Or is that noble prince within?"
"He's up the stairs wi' his bonny bride, An mony a lord and lady wi him." ”

“ And sit ye doun and sing thereon
As she gangs to the kirk.
"And four-and-twenty ladies fair
Will wash and to the kirk,
But well shall ye my true-love ken,
For she wears goud on her skirt.
"And four-and-twenty gay ladies
Will to the mass repair;
But weel shall ye my true love ken,
For she wears goud on her hair."
And even at the lady's bower-door
There grows a bowing birk;
And [he] sat down and sang thereon
As she gaed to the kirk.
"O eat and drink, my Maries a',
The wine flows you among,
Till I gang to my shot-window,
And hear yon bonny bird's song. ”

“ Now charming Mollee in her carriage doth ride,
With her hounds at her feet, and her lord by her side:
Now all ye fair maids, take a warning by me,
And ne er love a married man till his wife dee.
UNDAUNTED MARY It's of a Farmer's daughter, so beautiful I'm told,
Her parents died and left her five hundred pounds in gold,
She lived with her uncle, the cause of all her woe,
And you shall hear this maiden fair did prove his overthrow.
Her uncle had a ploughboy, young Mary loved full well,
And in her uncle's garden their tales of love would tell ”

“ Sometimes they call me John;
But when I'm in my father's bower
Jock Randal is my name."
"Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny lad;
Sae loud's I hear ye lee!
For I'm Lord Randal's yae daughter,
He has nae mair nor me."
"Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny may,
Sae loud's I hear ye lee!
For I'm Lord Randal's yae yae son,
Just now come o'er the sea."
She's putten her hand down by her spare,
And out she's ta en a knife,
And she has put'nt in her heart's bluid,
And ta'en away her life. ”

“ To her the letter gave.
"Ha, there's a letter frae your love,
He says he sent you three;
He canna wait your love langer,
But for your sake he'll die.
"He bids you write a letter to him;
He says he's sent ye five;
He canna wait your love langer,
Tho' you're the fairest woman alive." ”

“ There's ancient men at weddings been
For sixty years or more;
But sic a curious wedding-day
They never saw before.
For naething could the company do,
Nor naething could they say;
But they saw a flock o' pretty birds
That took their bride away.
When that Earl Mar he came to know
Where his dochter did stay,
He sign'd a bond o' unity
And visits now they pay.
THE FAUSE LOVER Afair maid sat in her bower door,
Wringing her lily hands;
And by it came a sprightly youth,
Fast tripping oer the strands.
"Where gang ye, young John," she says,
"Sae early in the day? ”

“ He would ha' nane but his ae daughter
To wait on them at dine.
(ca'ed, drove. birling, drinking.)
She's serv'd them but, she's serv'd them ben,
Intill a gown of green,
But her ee was aye on Brown Robin
That stood low under the rain.
She's do'en her to her bigly bower,
As fast as she could gang,
An' there she's drawn her shot-window,
An' she's harped an' she's sang.
"There sits a bird i' my father's garden,
An O but she sings sweet!
I hope to live and see the day
When wi' my love I'll meet." ”

“ While tears ran down her cheeks,
"For those that will work it's hard to want,
And wander for employ
To plough and sow, and reap and mow,
And be a farmer's boy."
In course of time he grew a man
The good old farmer died,
And left the boy the farm he had,
And his daughter for his bride;
The boy that was the farm now has,
Oft smiles and thinks with joy,
Of the lucky day he came that way,
And to be a farmer's boy.
TOMMY LINN Tommy Linn is a Scotchman born,
His head is bald, and his beard is shorn,
He has a cap made of a hare skin,
An elderman is Tommy Linn ”

“ You open'd your gates to the fause Inverey."
She ate wi' him, drank wi' him, welcom'd him in;
She welcom'd the villain that slew her baron!
She kept him till morning, syne bade him be gane,
And shaw'd him the road that he shou'dna be ta'en.
"Thro' Birss and Aboyne," she says, "lyin in a tour,
O'er the hills o' Glentanar you'll skip in an hour."
—There's grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha';
But the Baron o' Brackley is dead and awa.
CHILD VYET Lord Ingram and Child Vyet,
Were both born in ane bower,
Had both their loves on one Lady,
The less was their honour. ”

“ And ae the black bullet fell on bonny Annie.
"Ye'll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me canny,
Throw me out ower board, your ain dear Annie."
He has ta'en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her canny,
He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie.
"What can a woman do, love, I'll do for ye;"
"Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.—
Lay about, steer about, lay our ship canny,
Do all you can to save my dear Annie." ”

“ That you want to be slain?"
"A clerk, a clerk," the king then cried,
"To write her tocher free;"
"A priest, a priest," says love Johnny,
"To marry my love and me.
"I'm seeking nane o' your gold," he says,
"Nor of your silver clear;
I only seek your daughter fair,
Whose love hast cost her dear."
KEMP OWYNE Her mother died when she was young,
Which gave her cause to make great moan;
Her father married the worst woman
That ever lived in Christendom. ”

“ Haud far awa' frae me;
There's not a man in a' Strathdon,
The day shall wed wi' me."
Soon in there came Belbordlane,
With a pistol on every side;
"Come awa' hame, Eppie Morrie,
And there you'll be my bride."
"Go get to me a horse, Willy,
And get it like a man,
And send me back to my mother,
A maiden as I cam'.
"The sun shines o'er the westlin hills,
By the light lamp of the moon,
Just saddle your horse, young John Forsyth,
And whistle, and I'll come soon."
YOUNG AKIN Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,
Sewing at her silken seam ”

“ And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi' him his eldest son,
And when they were on a guid way,
Wi' slowly pace did walk,
The boy's heart being something wae,
He thus began to talk:—
"A question I wou'd ask, father,
Gin ye wou'dna angry be?"
"Say on, say on, my bonny boy,
Ye'se na be quarrell'd by me."
"I see my mithers cheeks aye weet,
I never can see them dry;
And I wonder what aileth my mither,
To mourn continually."
"Your mither was a king's daughter,
Sprung frae a high degree ”