Buchan's Gleanings, p. 122.
| 1 |
Lord John he's on to England gone,
To England gone is he;
Love John he's on to England gone,
The king's banneret to be. |
| 2 |
He hadna been in fair England
O but a little while,
Till faen in love wi the king's daughter,
And to him she's with chile. |
| 3 |
Now word is to the kitchen gane,
And word is to the ha,
And word is to the king's high court,
And that was warst of a'. |
| 4 |
Out then spake the king himsell,
An angry man was he:
I'll put her in prison strong,
And starve her till she die. |
| 5 |
Love John he's on to Scotland gone,
I wat he's on wi speed;
Love John he's on to Scotland gone,
And as good was his need. |
| 6 |
He hadna been in fair Scotland
But a very short tide,
Till he minded on the damsel
That lay last by his side. |
| 7 |
'Whare will I get a bonny boy,
Will win baith meat and fee,
That will run on to fair England,
And haste him back to me?' |
| 8 |
'O here am I, a bonny boy,
Will win baith meat and fee,
That will run on to fair England,
And haste him back to thee.' |
| 9 |
'Where ye find the grass grow green,
Ye'll slack your shoes and rin;
And when ye find the brigs broken,
Ye'll bend your bow and swim. |
| 10 |
'And when ye come to the king's high court,
Ye'll rin it round about,
And there ye'll see a lady gay,
At a window looking out. |
| 11 |
'Bid her take this shirt of silk,
Her ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Bid her come to good green-wood,
At her parents spier nae leave. |
| 12 |
'Bid her take this shirt of silk,
Her ain hand sewed the gair;
Bid her come to good green-wood,
Love John he waits her there.' |
| 13 |
Where he found the grass grow green,
He slackd his shoes and ran;
Where he fan the brigs broken,
He bent his bow and swam. |
| 14 |
When he came to the king's high court,
He ran it round about;
And there he saw the lady gay,
At the window looking out. |
| 15 |
'Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk,
Yere ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Ye're bidden come to good green-wood,
At your parents spier nae leave. |
| 16 |
'Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk,
Yere ain hand sewed the gair;
Ye're bidden come to good green-wood,
Love John he waits you there.' |
| 17 |
'My feet are in the fetters strong,
Instead of silken sheen;
My breast-plate's of the cold iron,
Instead of gold so fine. |
| 18 |
'But I will write a broad letter,
And seal it with my hand,
And send it off to my Love Johnny,
And let him understand.' |
| 19 |
The first line that he looked on,
A loud laughter laught he;
But ere he read it to the end,
The tear blinded his ee. |
| 20 |
'O I will on to fair England,
Whatever me betide,
For to relieve the damsel
That lay last by my side.' |
| 21 |
Out it spake his father dear,
A noble lord was he:
If ye gang to England, Johnny,
Ye'll neer come back to me. |
| 22 |
Out it spake a noble lord,
A noble lord, I wat, was he:
Fifteen of our Scottish lords
Will bear his honour companie. |
| 23 |
The first town that they eer came till,
They gart the bells be rung;
The next town that they came till,
They gart the mass be sung. |
| 24 |
And when they came to the king's court,
They gart the trumpet soun,
Till the king and all his merry young men
Did marvel at the tune. |
| 25 |
'Is this the Duke of Marlborough,
Or James, the Scottish king?
Or is it else some Scottish lord,
Come here a visiting?' |
| 26 |
'It's not the Duke of Marlborough,
Nor James, the Scottish king:
It is Love John of fair Scotland,
Come here a visiting.' |
| 27 |
'If this be John of fair Scotland,
He's dearly welcome to me;
The morn ere he eat or drink,
High hanged he shall be.' |
| 28 |
He's taen his broadsword in his hand,
And stripd it oer a stane;
Then thro and thro the king's high court
With broadsword now is gane. |
| 29 |
They fought it up, they fought it down,
Till they were weary men,
When the blood, like drops of rain,
Came trickling down the plain. |
| 30 |
Out it spake the king himsel,
Ane angry man was he:
I have ane Italian within my court
Will fight ye three and three. |
| 31 |
Out it came that ae Italian,
As pale as death was he,
And on the point of Johnny's sword
That ae Italian did die. |
| 32 |
'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried,
'And seal her tocher wi;'
'A priest, a priest,' Lord John he cried,
'That we may married be. |
| 33 |
'For I want neither gold,' he said,
'Nor do I want your gear;
But I do want my ain true-love,
For I have bought her dear.' |
