| 1 |
O lady, rock never your young son young
One hour longer for me,
For I have a sweetheart in Garlick's Wells
I love thrice better than thee. |
| 2 |
'The very sols of my love's feet
Is whiter then thy face:'
'But nevertheless na, Young Hunting,
Ye'l stay wi me all night.' |
| 3 |
She has birld in him Young Hunting
The good ale and the beer,
Till he was as fou drunken
As any wild-wood steer. |
| 4 |
She has birld in him Young Hunting
The good ale and the wine,
Till he was as fou drunken
As any wild-wood swine. |
| 5 |
Up she has tain him Young Hunting,
And she has had him to her bed,
. . . . .
. . . . . |
| 6 |
And she has minded her on a little penknife,
That hangs low down by her gare,
And she has gin him Young Hunting
A deep wound and a sare. |
| 7 |
Out an spake the bonny bird,
That flew abon her head:
'Lady, keep well thy green clothing
Fra that good lord's blood.' |
| 8 |
'O better I'll keep my green clothing
Fra that good lord's blood
Nor thou can keep thy flattering toung,
That flatters in thy head. |
| 9 |
'Light down, light down, my bonny bird,
Light down upon my hand,
. . . . . .
. . . . . |
| 10 |
'O siller, O siller shall be thy hire,
An goud shall be thy fee,
An every month into the year,
Thy cage shall changed be.' |
| 11 |
'I winna light down, I shanna light down,
I winna light on thy hand;
For soon, soon wad ye do to me
As ye done to Young Hunting.' |
| 12 |
She has booted an spird him Young Hunting
As he had been gan to ride,
A hunting-horn about his neck,
An the sharp sourd by his side. |
| 13 |
And she has had him to yon wan water,
For a' man calls it Clyde,
. . . . .
. . . . . |
| 14 |
The deepest pot intill it all
She has puten Young Hunting in;
A green truff upon his breast,
To hold that good lord down. |
| 15 |
It fell once upon a day
The king was going to ride,
And he sent for him Young Hunting,
To ride on his right side. |
| 16 |
She has turnd her right and round about,
She sware now by the corn,
'I saw na thy son, Young Hunting,
Sen yesterday at morn.' |
| 17 |
She has turnd her right and round about,
She swear now by the moon,
'I saw na thy son, Young Hunting,
Sen yesterday at noon. |
| 18 |
'It fears me sair in Clyde Water
That he is drownd therein:'
O thay ha sent for the king's duckers,
To duck for Young Hunting. |
| 19 |
They ducked in at the tae water-bank,
Thay ducked out at the tither:
'We'll duck no more for Young Hunting,
All tho he wear our brother.' |
| 20 |
Out an spake the bonny bird,
That flew abon their heads,
. . . . .
. . . . . |
| 21 |
'O he's na drownd in Clyde Water,
He is slain and put therein;
The lady that lives in yon castil
Slew him and put him in. |
| 22 |
'Leave aff your ducking on the day,
And duck upon the night;
Whear ever that sakeless knight lys slain,
The candels will shine bright.' |
| 23 |
Thay left off their ducking o the day,
And ducked upon the night,
And where that sakeless knight lay slain,
The candles shone full bright. |
| 24 |
The deepest pot intill it a'
Thay got Young Hunting in;
A green turff upon his brest,
To hold that good lord down. |
| 25 |
O thay ha sent aff men to the wood
To hew down baith thorn an fern,
That they might get a great bonefire
To burn that lady in.
'Put na the wyte on me,' she says,
'It was her May Catheren.' |
| 26 |
Whan thay had tane her May Catheren,
In the bonefire set her in;
It wad na take upon her cheeks,
Nor take upon her chin,
Nor yet upon her yallow hair,
To healle the deadly sin. |
| 27 |
Out they hae tain her May Catheren,
And they hay put that lady in;
O it took upon her cheek, her cheek,
An it took upon her chin,
An it took on her fair body,
She burnt like hoky-gren. |
