Kinloch Manuscripts, I, 327.
1 |
'Sleepst thou or wakst thou, Lord Montgomerie,
Sleepst thou or wakst thou, I say?
Rise up, make a match for your eldest daughter,
For the youngest I carry away.' |
2 |
'Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,
Dress yourselves in the armour sae fine;
For it ne'er shall be said that a churlish knight
Eer married a daughter of mine.' |
* * * |
3 |
'Loup aff, loup aff, Lady Margaret,' he said,
'And hold my steed in your hand,
And I will go fight your seven brethren,
And your father, where they stand.' |
4 |
Sometimes she gaed, sometimes she stood,
But never dropt a tear,
Until she saw her brethren all slain,
And her father who lovd her so dear. |
5 |
'Hold thy hand, sweet William,' she says,
'Thy blows are wondrous sore;
Sweethearts I may have many a one,
But a father I'll never have more.' |
6 |
O she's taken her napkin frae her pocket,
Was made o the holland fine,
And ay as she dichted her father's bloody wounds,
They sprang as red as the wine. |
7 |
'Two chooses, two chooses, Lady Margret,' he says,
'Two chooses I'll make thee;
Whether to go back to your mother again,
Or go along with me.' |
8 |
'For to go home to my mother again,
An unwelcome guest I'd be;
But since my fate has ordered it so,
I'll go along with thee.' |
9 |
He has mounted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself on the dapple gray,
And blawn his horn baith loud and shill,
And it sounded far on their way. |
10 |
They rode oer hill, they rode oer dale,
They rode oer mountains so high,
Until they came to that beautiful place
Where Sir William's mother did lie. |
11 |
'Rise up, rise up, lady mother,' he said,
'Rise up, and make much o your own;
Rise up, rise up, lady mother,' he said,
'For his bride's just new come home.' |
12 |
Sir Willian he died in the middle o the night,
Lady Margaret died on the morrow;
Sir William he died of pure pure love,
Lady Margaret of grief and sorrow. |