Buchan's Manuscripts, II, 161.
| 1 |
Ten lords sat drinking at the wine
Intill a morning early;
There fell a combat them among,
It must be fought, nae parley. |
| 2 |
'O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!
O stay, my ain dear marrow!'
'Sweetest min, I will be thine,
An dine wi you tomorrow.' |
| 3 |
She kissd his lips, an combed his hair,
As she had done before O,
Gied him a brand down by his side,
An he is on to Yarrow. |
| 4 |
As he gaed oer yon dowey knowe,
As he had dane before O,
Nine armed men lay in a den,
Upo the braes o Yarrow. |
| 5 |
'O came ye here to hunt or hawk,
As ye had dane before O?
Or came ye here to wiel your brand,
Upo the braes o Yarrow?' |
| 6 |
'I came nae here to hunt nor hawk,
As I hae done before O;
But I came here to wiel my brand,
Upo the braes o Yarrow?' |
| 7 |
Four he hurt, an five he slew,
Till down it fell himsell O;
There stood a fause lord him behin,
Who thrust his body thorrow. |
| 8 |
'Gae hame, gae hame, my brother John,
An tell your sister sorrow;
Your mither woud come take up her son,
Aff o the braes o Yarrow.' |
| 9 |
As he gaed oer yon high, high hill,
As he had dane before O,
There he met his sister dear,
Came rinnin fast to Yarrow. |
| 10 |
'I dreamd a dream last night,' she says,
'I wish it binna sorrow;
I dreamd I was puing the heather green
Upo the braes o Yarrow.' |
| 11 |
'I'll read your dream, sister,' he says,
'I'll read it into sorrow;
Ye're bidden gae take up your luve,
He's sleeping sound on Yarrow.' |
| 12 |
She's torn the ribbons frae her head —
They were baith thick an narrow —
She's kilted up her green claithing,
An she's awa to Yarrow. |
| 13 |
She's taen him in her arms twa,
An gaen him kisses thorough,
An wi her tears she bath'd his wounds,
Upo the braes o Yarrow. |
| 14 |
Her father, looking oer the castle-wa,
Beheld his daughter's sorrow;
'O had your tongue, daughter,' he says,
'An lat be a' your sorrow!
I'll wed you wi a better lord
Than he that died on Yarrow.' |
| 15 |
'O had your tongue, father,' she says,
'An lat be till tomorrow!
A better lord there coudna be
Than he that died on Yarrow.' |
| 16 |
She kissd his lips, an combd his hair,
As she had done before O,
An wi a crack her head did brack,
Upo the braes o Yarrow. |
