Johnson's Museum,No 303, p. 312, contributed by Burns;
Cromek, Reliques of Robert Burns, 4th ed., 1817, p. 287;
Cromek, Select Scottish Songs, etc., 1810, II, 151. From
oral tradition in Ayrshire.
| 1 |
Our lords are to the mountains gane,
A hunting o the fallow deer,
And they hae gripet Hughie Graham,
For stealing o the bishop's mare. |
| 2 |
And they hae tied him hand and foot,
And led him up thro Stirling town;
The lads and lasses met him there,
Cried, Hughie Graham, thou art a loun! |
| 3 |
'O lowse my right hand free,' he says,
'And put my braid sword in the same,
He's no in Stirling town this day
Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham.' |
| 4 |
Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,
As he sat by the bishop's knee:
'Five hundred white stots I'll gie you,
If ye'll let Hughie Graham gae free.' |
| 5 |
'O haud your tongue,' the bishop says,
'And wi your pleading let me be!
For tho ten Grahams were in his coat,
Highie Graham this day shall die.' |
| 6 |
Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,
As she sat by the bishop's knee:
'Five hundred white pence I'll gee you,
If ye'll gie Hughie Graham to me.' |
| 7 |
'O haud your tongue now, lady fair,
And wi your pleading let it be!
Altho ten Grahams were in his coat,
It's for my honour he maun die.' |
| 8 |
They've taen him to the gallows-knowe,
He looked to the gallows-tree,
Yet never colour left his cheek,
Nor ever did he blink his ee. |
| 9 |
At length he looked round about,
To see whatever he could spy,
And there he saw his auld father,
And he was weeping bitterly. |
| 10 |
'O haud your tongue, my father dear,
And wi your weeping let it be!
Thy weeping's sairer on my heart
Than a' that they can do to me. |
| 11 |
'And ye may gie my brother John
My sword that's bent in the middle clear,
And let him come at twelve o'clock,
And see me pay the bishop's mare. |
| 12 |
'And ye may gie my brother James
My sword that's bent in the middle brown,
And bid him come at four o'clock,
And see his brother High cut down. |
| 13 |
'Remember me to Maggy my wife,
The niest time ye gang oer the moor;
Tell her, she staw the bishop's mare,
Tell her, she was the bishop's whore. |
| 14 |
'And ye may tell my kith and kin
I never did disgrace their blood,
And when they meet the bishop's cloak,
To mak it shorter by the hood.' |
