Harris Manuscript, fol. 16; from Mrs. Harris's recitation.
| 1 |
Pretty is the story I hae to tell,
Pretty is the praisin o itsel,
An pretty is the prisner oor king's tane,
The rantin young laird o Logie. |
| 2 |
Has he brunt? or has he slain?
Or has he done any injurie?
Oh no, no, he's done nothing at all,
But stown a kiss frae the queen's marie. |
| 3 |
Ladie Margaret cam doon the stair,
Wringin her hands an tearin her hair;
Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam,
Aye to see Young Logie dee! |
| 4 |
'Had your tongue noo, Lady Margaret,
An a' your weepin lat a bee!
For I'll gae to the king my sell,
An plead for life to Young Logie.' |
| 5 |
'First whan I to Scotland cam,
You promised to gie me askens three;
The first then o these askens is
Life for the young laird o Logie.' |
| 6 |
'If you had asked house or lands,
They suld hae been at your command;
But the morn, ere I taste meat or drink,
High hanged sall Young Logie be.' |
| 7 |
Lady Margaret cam doon the stair,
Wringin her hands an tearin her hair;
Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam,
A' to see Young Logie dee! |
| 8 |
'Haud your tongue noo, Lady Margaret,
An a' your weepin lat a bee!
For I'll counterfiet the king's hand-write,
An steal frae him his right-hand gloe,
An send them to Pitcairn's wa's,
A' to lat Young Logie free.' |
| 9 |
She counterfieted the king's hand-write,
An stole frae him his richt hand gloe,
An sent them to Pitcairn's wa's,
A' to let Young Logie free. |
| 10 |
The king luikit owre his castle-wa,
Was luikin to see what he cald see:
'My life to wad an my land to pawn,
Yonder comes the young laird o Logie!' |
| 11 |
'Pardon, oh pardon! my lord the king,
Aye I pray you pardon me;
For I counterfieted your hand-write,
An stole frae you your richt hand gloe,
An sent them to Pitcairn's wa's,
A' to set Young Logie free.' |
| 12 |
'If this had been done by laird or lord,
Or by baron of high degree,
I'se mak it sure, upon my word,
His life suld hae gane for Young Logie. |
| 13 |
'But since it is my gracious queen,
A hearty pardon we will gie,
An for her sake we'll free the loon,
The rantin young laird o Logie.' |
