Dr. Joseph Robertson's "Journal of Excursions," No 1, 1829.
| 1 |
* * * *
'Hail well, hail well, my little foot-page,
Hail well this deed on me,
And ever I live my life to brook,
I'se pay thee well thy fee.' |
| 2 |
'It's we'l beet him, and we'l spur him,
As gin he had been gain to ride,
Put a huntin-horn about his neck,
And a small sword by his side. |
| 3 |
'And we'll carry him to Clyde's Water,
And there we'll fling him in,
That we may have it to be said
In Clyde's Water he drownd.' |
| 4 |
O they bet him, and they spurrd him,
As gin he had been gain to ride,
Pat a huntin-horn about his neck,
But the sword on his wrang side. |
| 5 |
And they hae carried him to Clyde's Water,
And there they flang him in,
That they might have it to be said
In Clyde's Water he drowned.
* * * * * |
| 6 |
'It's we'll sen for the king's doukers,
And douk it up and doun;
It's we'll sen for the king's doukers,
And douk it out and in.' |
| 7 |
Out it spak a little wee birdie,
As it sat on yon burn-brae:
. . . . .
. . . . . |
| 8 |
'Ye may lay by your day doukers,
And turn you to the night,
And where the innocent blood lies slain,
The candles will burn fou bricht.' |
| 9 |
O they hae brunt that gay ladie,
And blawn her in the air,
And nothing o that bower-man would burn
But the hands that buskd him rare. |
