Motherwell's MS., p. 433, from James Nicol, Strichen.

1 Oh I will tell a tale of woe,
Which makes my heart richt sair;
The Clerk's two sons of Oxenfoord
Are too soon gone to lair.
2 They thought their father's service mean,
Their mother's no great affair;
But they would go to fair Berwick,
To learn [some] unco lair.
3 They had not been in fair Berwick
A twelve month and a day,
Till the clerk's two sons of Oxenfoord
With the mayor's two daughters lay.
4 This word came to the mighty mayor,
As he hunted the rae,
That the clerks two sons of Oxenfoord
With his two daughters lay.
5 'If they have lain with my daughters,
The heirs of all my land,
I make a vow, and will keep it true,
To hang them with my hand.'
6 When he was certain of the fact,
An angry man was he,
And he has taken these two brothers,
And hanged them on the tree.
7 Word it has come to Oxenfoord's clerk,
Ere it was many day,
That his two sons sometime ago
With the mayor's two daughters lay.
8 'O saddle a horse to me,' he cried,
'O do it quick and soon,
That I may ride to fair Berwick,
And see what can be done.'
9 But when he came to fair Berwick
A grieved man was he,
When that he saw his two bonnie sons
Both hanging on the tree.
10 'O woe is me,' the clerk cried out,
'This dismal sight to see,
All the whole comfort of my life
Dead hanging on the tree!'
11 He turned his horse's head about,
Making a piteous moan,
And all the way to Oxenfoord
Did sad and grievously groan.
12 His wife did hastily cry out,
'You only do I see;
What have you done with my two sons,
You should have brought to me?'
13 'I put them to some higher lair,
And to a deeper scule;
You will not see your bonnie sons
Till the haly days of Yule.
14 'And I will spend my days in grief,
Will never laugh nor sing;
There's never a man in Oxenfoord
Shall hear my bridle ring.'

A.

31, 51, 63, 71, 91. Oh.

53. in Owsenford.

142. day an doom.

B.

In the margin as a note (see A 1):

I will sing a sang to you,
But o my heart is sair!
The twa pretty clerks o Owsenfoord
As they went to their lair.

72. twinit, MS.?

84. sic loss.

C.

283. oh.

FOOTNOTES:

[111] 'Das Schloss in Oesterreich,' 'Der unschuldige Tod des jungen Knaben.' One stanza in Forsters Frische Liedlein, 1540, II, No 77 (Böhme); broadside of 1606, Erk's Liederhort, p. 15, No 6a; broadside of 1647, Eschenburg, in Deutsches Museum, 1776, p. 399, and Denkmäler Altdeutscher Dichtkunst, 1799, p. 446,=Uhland, p. 300, No 125; late broadside, Wunderhorn, 1806, I, 220. From oral tradition: Gräter's Bragur, VI, I, 205; Erk, Neue Sammlung, I, 20, No 16; Erk's Liederhort, p. 12, No 6; Hoffmann u. Richter, p. 17, No 8; Fiedler, p. 172, No 12; Jeitteles, in Archiv für Litteraturgeschichte, IX, 362, No 5; Schlossar, Deutsche Volkslieder aus Steiermark, p. 346, No 314; Wittstock, Sagen u. Lieder aus dem Nösner Gelande, p. 44, No 15; Frommann, Deutsche Mundarten, V, 391; Meinert, p. 53. (The last is an independent version; the rest have all one type.) Low-German, Niederdeutsche Volkslieder, herausgegeben vom Vereine für niederdeutsche Sprachforschung, p. 56, No 84. Dutch, Hoffmann, Niederländische Volkslieder, p. 84, No 25. Norse: Afzelius, II, 62, No 40, from a seventeenth century broadside; Atterbom's Poetisk Kalender, 1816, p. 32; Wigström, Folkdiktning, I, 64, No 30; Aminson, Bidrag, etc., IV, 4, No 26, A, B, fragments; Nyerup, Udvalg af Danske Viser, I, 57, No 14; Lindeman, Norske Fjeldmelodier, Tekst Bilag, I, 3 f, No 10. There is a Swedish broadside of 1642, a Danish of 1697.

[112] Meinert's ballad, which, though it sometimes betrays artifice, has a fresher tone than the others, makes the chain the young lady's love-token: but this love is no count in the indictment. Uhland, IV, 145, cites from a manuscript chronicle a story of a highwayman, a widow's son, thrice imprisoned and twice ransomed; to no purpose, as far as I can see.


73
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET

A. 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' Percy's Reliques, 1765, II, 293; III, 240, ed. 1767.

B. 'The Nut-Brown Bride,' Kinloch MSS, I, 1.

C. 'The Brown Bride and Lord Thomas,' Motherwell's MS., p. 157.

D. 'Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor.' a. Pepys Ballads, III, 316, No 312. b, c, d, other broadside copies. e, f, g, h, i, recited copies.

E. 'Sweet Willie and Fair Annie,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 22.

F. 'Sweet Willie and Fair Annie,' Kinloch MSS, III, 127, V, 339.

G. Skene MSS, p. 104.

H. 'Fair Annie and Sweet Willie,' Gibb MS., p. 64.

The copy of 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet' in Herd, 1769, p. 246, 1776, I, 24, and in the Musical Museum, p. 553, No 535, is Percy's, A.

The English version of this ballad, 'Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor,' given, with alterations, in Percy's Reliques, III, 82, 1765,[113] is a broadside of Charles the Second's time, printed for I. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger, and licensed by L'Estrange, who was censor from 1663 to 1685. This copy has become traditional in Scotland and Ireland. The Scottish traditional copy, 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' given by Percy in the Reliques (unfortunately with some corrections, but these cannot have been many), is far superior, and one of the most beautiful of our ballads, and indeed of all ballads. 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William,' "a more pathetic story of the man who loves one woman and marries another," begins in the same way, with the last long talk before parting. The conclusion is that the forsaken maid dies of grief, not by the hand of her incensed rival, and it is most natural that the two stories should be blended in tradition, as they are here in E-H, E 31 ff, F 27 ff, G 24 ff, H 37 ff belonging to 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William.'

There is a copy of 'Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor,' written over for the ballad-mongers, and of course much less in the popular style, in Pepys, IV, 48, No 45, and Roxburghe, II, 553, with the title 'The Unfortunate Forrester, or, Fair Eleanor's Tragedy.' In this Fair Ellinor stabs herself and Lord Thomas then kills himself with the same dagger.[114]

Norse ballads have the story of 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' coming very close in details. Those forms which are nearest to the English resemble more the mixed versions, E-H, than the simple, A-D. But in none of the Norse ballads is love thwarted because it stands upon the choice of friends. A man abandons a woman who is in all but the name his wife, and who regards herself, and is evidently regarded by others, as standing in no dishonorable relation to him. There is again a bifurcation in the catastrophe. The forsaken mistress submits and hangs herself in the one case, in the other she takes a fierce revenge. The latter conclusion may well, as Grundtvig holds, be the more original, but the ballads which have the other will here be put first, as being nearer to the English.

(1.) A. 'Herr Peder och Liten Kerstin,' Afzelius, I, 49, No 9, Grundtvig, IV, 219, Wigström, Folkdiktning, II, 5, broadsides of the eighteenth century and traditional copies derived therefrom. B. 'Herr Peders Slegfred,' broadside of the seventeenth century, Grundtvig, IV, 216, No 210; Danske Viser, III, 365, No 157; Kristensen, II, 177, No 52. C. A traditional fragment, Grundtvig, IV, 220, Bilag 2, from Cavallius and Stephens's collection. (2.) D. 'Liti Kerstis hevn,' Landstad, p. 559, No 67. E. Manuscript of the seventeenth century, Grundtvig, IV, 215. F. 'Liten Kerstins Hämd,' c. 1700, Arwidsson, I, 305, No 45.

Sir Peter and Liten Kerstin sit at table talking merrily, A, B, E. Peter informs Kerstin that he is to be married. She says she shall not fail to be present; he, that the wedding will be too far away for anybody to come. She shall come, if asked, though it be in Rome, B. If you come, says Peter, you must not wear your gold. She will wear it, for it was got by no dishonor, B, E. Peter rides off, Kerstin wrings her hands: alack for the maid that trusts a loon! He makes the preparations for his bridal, and she orders her clothes, which are of the richest description, all pearls and gold.[115] She has her horse shod, as in English, B 21, C 12, E 22. When she enters the hall, wives and maids stand up, B. She pours wine for the guests. The bride asks who she is, and is told that it is Sir Peter's mistress.[116] She has more gold on her kirtle's hem, says the bride, than all that Sir Peter owns. Why, if he had her, did he come seeking me? After the usual long delay the bride is conducted to the bride-house, Kerstin carrying the torch before her. Kerstin even puts the bride to bed. She leaves the room, saying, A, I trow I shall come here no more, goes into the orchard, and hangs herself with her hair. Sir Peter is informed of what has happened, rushes to the orchard, takes Kerstin down, has a grave dug deep and broad, sets his sword against a stone, and runs on it. The next day, as so often, there are three dead, Sir Peter, Kerstin, and the bride, A, B. In C, Peter hangs himself on the same tree.

Not so moving, but considerably more powerful and original, is the other termination of the story. In E, after Kerstin has lighted the bride to the bride-house, she draws a knife and kills Peter. She tells the bride that this should have been her death too, had she not spoken her so fair. In D, F, she sets fire to the house and burns the bride on the bridegroom's arm.

Sir Peter awakes, but he wakes not ere
The flame is playing in the young bride's hair.
Sir Peter springs from his bed, oer late;
He saw Little Kersti go out through the gate.
'Ah, dear Little Kersti, now help thou me!
Another time shall I help thee.'
And it was Little Kersti, her laugh he heard:
'I wot how well you keep your word.'[117]

A Southern ballad has something of the outline of the English and Norse, and sounds like a thin echo of them. A. Poésies populaires de la France, MS., III, fol. 158, Burgundy. B. Buchon, Noëls et Chants p. de la Franche-Comté, p. 90, No 31, 'J'ai fait un rêve.' C. Beaurepaire, La Poésie p. en Normandie, p. 50. D. Ampère, Instructions, p. 34, Bretagne. E. Guillon, Chansons p. de l'Ain, p. 161, 'Chante, rossignolet.' F. Arbaud, Chants p. de la Provence, II, 139, 'Lou premier Jour de Mai.' G. Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, p. 8, No 7, 'Il primo amore.'

A youth is obliged by his father to give up his love for a bride who is less beautiful but richer. He has a dream that his love is dead, and carries her a rose, B, D. He invites her to the wedding: she will not come to the ceremony, but to the dance. She has three gowns made for the occasion, the third embroidered with gold, or of gold stuff. She falls dead while dancing: she falls on the right, he on the left. In G, after his love has died, the bridegroom draws his sword and kills himself. C and one copy of D have the phenomenon of the sympathetic plants, as in English A, B, E, F, G.

E 3 is a sort of commonplace when unequal matches are in question. So in a fragment in Herd's manuscripts, I, 55, II, 187:

'I hae nae houses, I hae nae lands,
I hae nae gowd or fee, Sir;
I am oer low to be your bryde,
Your loon I'll never be, Sir.'

And again Motherwell's MS., p. 37. It is Lady Grey's answer to King Edward in the Third Part of Henry VI, III, 2:

'I know I am too mean to be your queen,
And yet too good to be your concubine.'

So Crescentia, the Koloczaer Codex, Mailáth u. Köffinger, p. 260, v. 565 ff.

With regard to B 20, 'I'll na put on the dowie green,' Kinloch remarks that green is considered unfortunate in love matters, the couplet running,

Green is love deen,
Yellow's forsaken;

whereas blue is looked upon as a most fortunate color: "blue is love true." "To be married in a green colored dress is ominous of misfortune, for according to the proverb:

They that marry in green,
Their sorrow is soon seen.

And no young woman in the North would wear that color on her wedding day. An old lady of my acquaintance, whose marriage had proved unfortunate, used seriously to warn young women to beware of being married in green, for she attributed her own misfortunes solely to her having been married in a green gown, which she had put on contrary to the sage advice of her seniors, in whose minds the belief was more firmly rooted, and who had wished her to wear in its stead a blue dress, as being the more lucky color. To dance in green stockings is a proverbial phrase applied to an elder sister when the younger is first married, intimating that she may mourn her hapless fate, as she has now no chance of being married. To dream of green is believed to be the presage of misfortune." Kinloch MSS, I, 15 f.


A is translated by Bodmer, II, 44, Doenniges, p. 125. D, Percy's copy, by Eschenburg, in Ursinus, Balladen und Lieder, 1777, p. 69; by Bodmer, I, 106; by Talvj, Versuch u. s. w., p. 497; Döring, p. 191; Doenniges, p. 121; Arentsschild, Albion u. Erin, p. 535; von Marées, p. 36; Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 175, No 47; Loève-Veimars, p. 123.

Norse A is translated by W. and M. Howitt, Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, I, 258; B by Prior, III, 363.

A

Percy's Reliques, 1765, II, 293, "given, with some corrections, from a MS. copy transmitted from Scotland."

1 Lord Thomas and Fair Annet
Sate a' day on a hill;
Whan night was cum, and sun was sett,
They had not talkt their fill.
2 Lord Thomas said a word in jest,
Fair Annet took it ill:
'A, I will nevir wed a wife
Against my ain friends' will.'
3 'Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife,
A wife wull neir wed yee:'
Sae he is hame to tell his mither,
And knelt upon his knee.
4 'O rede, O rede, mither,' he says,
'A gude rede gie to mee;
O sall I tak the nut-browne bride,
And let Faire Annet bee?'
5 'The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,
Fair Annet she has gat nane;
And the little beauty Fair Annet haes
O it wull soon be gane.'
6 And he has till his brother gane:
'Now, brother, rede ye mee;
A, sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,
And let Fair Annet bee?'
7 'The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother,
The nut-browne bride has kye;
I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride,
And cast Fair Annet bye.'
8 'Her oxen may dye i the house, billie,
And her kye into the byre,
And I sall hae nothing to mysell
Bot a fat fadge by the fyre.'
9 And he has till his sister gane:
'Now, sister, rede ye mee;
O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,
And set Fair Annet free?'
10 'I'se rede ye tak Fair Annet, Thomas,
And let the browne bride alane;
Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace,
What is this we brought hame!'
11 'No, I will tak my mither's counsel,
And marrie me owt o hand;
And I will tak the nut-browne bride,
Fair Annet may leive the land.'
12 Up then rose Fair Annet's father,
Twa hours or it wer day,
And he is gane into the bower
Wherein Fair Annet lay.
13 'Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,' he says,
'Put on your silken sheene;
Let us gae to St. Marie's kirke,
And see that rich weddeen.'
14 'My maides, gae to my dressing-roome,
And dress to me my hair;
Whaireir yee laid a plait before,
See yee lay ten times mair.
15 'My maids, gae to my dressing-room,
And dress to me my smock;
The one half is o the holland fine,
The other o needle-work.'
16 The horse Fair Annet rade upon,
He amblit like the wind;
Wi siller he was shod before,
Wi burning gowd behind.
17 Four and twanty siller bells
Wer a' tyed till his mane,
And yae tift o the norland wind,
They tinkled ane by ane.
18 Four and twanty gay gude knichts
Rade by Fair Annet's side,
And four and twanty fair ladies,
As gin she had bin a bride.
19 And whan she cam to Marie's kirk,
She sat on Marie's stean:
The cleading that Fair Annet had on
It skinkled in their een.
20 And whan she cam into the kirk,
She shimmerd like the sun;
The belt that was about her waist
Was a' wi pearles bedone.
21 She sat her by the nut-browne bride,
And her een they wer sae clear,
Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride,
Whan Fair Annet drew near.
22 He had a rose into his hand,
He gae it kisses three,
And reaching by the nut-browne bride,
Laid it on Fair Annet's knee.
23 Up than spak the nut-browne bride,
She spak wi meikle spite:
'And whair gat ye that rose-water,
That does mak yee sae white?'
24 'O I did get the rose-water
Whair ye wull neir get nane,
For I did get that very rose-water
Into my mither's wame.'
25 The bride she drew a long bodkin
Frae out her gay head-gear,
And strake Fair Annet unto the heart,
That word spak nevir mair.
26 Lord Thomas he saw Fair Annet wex pale,
And marvelit what mote bee;
But whan he saw her dear heart's blude,
A' wood-wroth wexed hee.
27 He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp,
That was sae sharp and meet,
And drave it into the nut-browne bride,
That fell deid at his feit.
28 'Now stay for me, dear Annet,' he sed,
'Now stay, my dear,' he cry'd;
Then strake the dagger untill his heart,
And fell deid by her side.
29 Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa,
Fair Annet within the quiere,
And o the tane thair grew a birk,
The other a bonny briere.
30 And ay they grew, and ay they threw,
As they wad faine be neare;
And by this ye may ken right weil
They were twa luvers deare.

B

Kinloch MSS, I, 1, from the recitation of Mary Barr, Lesmahago.

1 Sweet Willie and Fair Annie
Sat a' day on yon hill;
Though they had sat til the leventh o June,
They wad na got their fill.
2 But Willie spak a word amiss,
Fair Annie took it ill:
'I'll neer marry a tocherless lass
Agen my ain friends' will.'
3 Then on she lap, and awa she gat,
As fast as she could hie:
'Fare ye weel now, Sweet Willie,
It's fare ye weel a wee.'
4 Then he is gane to his father's ha,
And tirled at the pin;
Then up and rase his father proud.
And loot Sweet Willie in.
5 'Come riddle us, riddle us, father dear,
Yea both of us into ane;
Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,
Or bring the brown bride hame?'
6 'The brown bride she has houses and land,
And Annie she has nane;
Sae on my blessing, my auld son,
Bring ye Brown Bride hame.'
7 Then he is to his mither's bouer,
And tirled at the pin;
Then up and rose his mother dear
To let Sweet Willie in.
8 'Come riddle us, riddle us, mother dear,
Yea baith o us into ane;
Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,
Or bring the brown bride hame?'
9 'The brown bride she has gowd and gear,
Fair Annie she has nane;
And for my blessing, my auld son,
Bring ye Brown Bride hame.'
10 Then he is to his sister's bouer,
And tirled at the pin;
And wha sae ready as his sister dear
To let her brither in.
11 'Come riddle us, riddle us, sister fair,
Us baith yea into ane;
Whether sall I marry Fair Annie,
Or bring the brown bride hame?'
12 'The brown bride she has horse and kye,
And Annie she has nane;
But for my love, my brither dear,
Bring hame the fair woman.
13 'Your horse may dee into the staw,
The kye into the byre,
And ye'll hae nocht but a howther o dirt,
To feed about your fire.'
14 Then he is to Fair Annie's bouer,
And tirled at the pin;
And wha sae ready as Fair Annie
To let Sweet Willie in.
15 'You're welcome here to me, Willie,
You're welcome here to me:'
'I'm na welcome to thee, Annie,
I'm na welcome to thee,
For I'm come to bid ye to my wedding,
It's gey sad news to thee.'
16 'It's gey sad news to me, Willie,
The saddest ye could tell;
It's gey sad news to me, Willie,
That shoud been bride mysel.'
17 Then she is to her father gane,
And bowed low on her knee:
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
18 'Come riddle us, riddle us, father dear,
Us baith yea into ane;
Whether sall I gang to Willie's wedding,
Or sall I stay at hame?'
19 'Whare ane will be your frien, Annie,
Twenty will be your fae;'
'But prove it gude, or prove it bad,
To Willie's wedding I'll gae.
20 'I'll na put on the grisly black,
Nor yet the dowie green,
But I'll put on a scarlet robe
To sheen like onie queen.'
21 She's orderd the smiths to the smithy,
To shoe her a riding steed;
She has orderd tailors to her bouer,
To dress her a riding weed.
22 She has calld her maries to her bour,
To lay gowd on her hair:
'Whare e'er ye put ae plait before,
See ye lay ten times mair.'
23 The steed Fair Annie rade upon,
He bounded like the wind;
Wi silver he was shod before,
Wi burning gowd behind.
24 And four and twenty siller bells
War tiëd til his mane;
Wi ae blast o the norland wind
They tinkled ane by ane.
25 And whan she cam unto the place,
And lichted on the green,
Ilka ane that did her see
Thought that she was a queen.
26 'Is this your bride, Sweet Willie?' she said,
'I think she's wondrous wan;
Ye micht have had as fair a bride
As eer the sun sheend on.'
27 'O haud your tongue, Fair Annie,' he said,
'Wi your talk let me abee;
For better I loe your little finger
Than the brown bride's haill bodie.'
28 Then out and spak the nut-brown bride,
And she spak out of spite:
'O whare gat ye the water, Annie,
That washd your face sae white?'
29 'O I gat een the water,' quo she,
'Whare ye will neer get nane;
It's I gat een the water,' quo she,
'Aneath yon marble stane.'
30 Then out and spake the nut-brown bride,
And she spak yet again:
'O whare gat ye the claith, Annie,
That dried your face sae clean?'
31 'O I gat een the claith,' quo she,
'Whare ye will neer get nane;
It's I gat een the claith,' quo she,
'Aneath yon bouer o bane.'
32 The brown bride had a little penknife,
Which she kept secret there;
She stabbd Fair Annie to the heart,
A deep wound and a sair.
33 It's out and spak he Sweet Willie,
And he spak yet again:
'O what's the matter wi thee, Annie,
That ye do look sae wan?'
34 'Oh are ye blind, Willie?' she said,
'Or do ye no weel see?
I think ye micht see my heart's blude,
Come rinning by my knee.'
35 Then Willie took a little sword,
Which he kept secret there,
And strak the brown bride to the heart,
A word she neer spak mair.
36 And after that a' this was dune,
He drew it through the strae,
And through his ain fair bodie
He causd the cauld iron gae.
37 The last words that Sweet Willie spak,
His heart was almaist gane;
'May never a young man like me
Have sic a sad wedding.
38 'For gear will come, and gear will gang,
And gear's ae but a lend,
And monie a ane for warld's gear
A silly brown bride brings hame.'
39 Sweet Willie was buried in Mary's kirk,
And Annie in Mary's quire,
And out o the ane there grew a birk,
And out o the ither a brier.
40 And ae they grew, and ae they threw,
Until the twa did meet,
That ilka ane micht plainly see
They were true lovers sweet.

C

Motherwell's MS., p. 157, from the recitation of Agnes Laird, Kilbarchan, 1825.

1 'Come read my rede, O mother dear,
Come riddle it all in one;
O whether will I take Fair Annie,
Or bring the brown bride home?'
2 'The brown, brown bride has kye and ewes,
Fair Annie she has none;
She has nothing but a bonny, bonny face,
And that'll soon be gone.'
3 'Where will I get a pretty little boy,
That'll rin my errands soon,
That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,
And bid her to my wedding?'
4 'Here am I, a pretty little boy,
That'll rin your errands soon,
That will rin to Fair Annie's bower,
And bid her to your wedding.'
5 'Forbid her to put on her silks so black,
Or yet her silks so brown;
But she must put on her suddled silks,
That she wears up and down.
6 'Forbid her to put on her silks so green,
Or yet her silks so gray;
But she must put on her suddled silks,
That she wears every day.'
7 When he gade to Fair Annie's bower,
He tirled at the pin;
So ready was Fair Annie hersell
To open and let him in.
8 'What news, what news, my little boy?
What news hast thou to me?'
'You must prepare for Lord Thomas' wedding,
And that's bad news for thee.'
9 'Good news, good news,' Fair Annie says,
'Good news is it for me,
For me to be bride and him bridegroom,
And that's good news for me.'
10 'He forbids thee to put on thy silks so black,
Or yet thy silks so brown;
But thou must put on thy suddled silks,
That thou wears up and down.
11 'He forbids you to put on thy silks so green,
Or yet thy silks so gray;
But thou must on thy suddled silks,
That thou wears every day.'
12 'There are smiths into my smiddy-bour
That'll dress to me a steed,
There are tailors in my tailor-house
That'll dress to me a weed.
13 'There are maidens in my maiden-bower
That'll lay gold in my hair,
And where eer there were ane link before,
It shall be nine times mair.'
14 Then Annie got herself attired,
In all things very fine,
With red ribbons, and silks so fair,
That owre her shoulders shine.
15 When she came to Lord Thomas' yett,
She shined amang them a',
And the buttons on Lord Thomas' coat
Brusted and brak in twa.
16 'Brown, brown is your steed,' she says,
'But browner is your bride;
But gallant is that handkerchy
That hideth her din hide.'
17 'O hold thy peace, Fair Annie,' he says,
'Speak not of that to me,
For happy is that bonny, bonny lad
That leads his life with thee.'
18 Then out bespoke the brown, brown bride,
And she spoke out with spite:
'O whare gets thou that water-cherry,
That washes thee so white?'
19 'I got in my father's garden,
Below an olive tree,
And although thou war to seek long seven years
That water thou'll never see.
20 'Tho thou hast got Lord Thomas' hand
That water thou'll neer see;
For thou's sunbrunt from thy mother's womb,
And thou'll never be like me.'
 *  *  *  *  *

D