Buchan's Manuscripts, II, 178.
| 1 |
O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,
The broom grows oer the burn!
Aye when I mind on's bonny yellow hair,
I aye hae cause to mourn. |
| |
There was a bonny, a well-fared may,
In the fauld milking her kye,
When by came a troop of merry gentlemen,
And sae merrily they rode by.
O the broom, etc. |
| 2 |
The maid she sang till the hills they rang,
And a little more forebye,
Till in came ane of these gentlemen
To the bught o the bonny may. |
| 3 |
'Well mat ye sing, fair maid,' he says,
'In the fauld, milking your kye;
The night is misty, weet and dark,
And I've gane out o my way.' |
| 4 |
'Keep on the way ye ken, kind sir,
Keep on the way ye ken;
But I pray ye take care o Clyde's water,
For the stream runs proud and fair.' |
| 5 |
'I ken you by your lamar beads,
And by your blinking ee,
That your mother has some other maid
To send to the ewes than thee.' |
| 6 |
'I ken you by your powderd locks,
And by your gay gold ring,
That ye are the laird o Rock-rock lays,
That beguiles all young women.' |
| 7 |
'I'm not the laird o the Rock-rock lays,
Nor ever hopes to be;
But I am one o the finest knights
That's in his companie. |
| 8 |
'Are ye the maid o the Cowden Knowes?
I think you seem to be;'
'No, I'm not the maid o the Cowden Knowes,
Nor ever hopes to be;
But I am one of her mother's maids,
And oft in her companie.' |
| 9 |
'He's taen her by the milk-white hand,
And by her grass-green sleeve,
He's set her down upon the ground
Of her kin spierd nae leave. |
| 10 |
He's gien her a silver comb,
To comb her yellow hair;
He bade her keep it for his sake,
For fear she never got mair. |
| 11 |
He pat his hand in his pocket,
He's gien her guineas three;
Says, Take ye that, fair maid, he says,
'Twill pay the nourice's fee. |
| 12 |
She's taen the milk-pail on her head,
And she gaed singing hame,
And a' that her auld father did say,
'Daughter, ye've tarried lang.' |
| 13 |
'Woe be to your shepherd, father,
And an ill death mat he die!
He's biggit the bught sae far frae the town,
And trystit a man to me. |
| 14 |
'There came a tod into the bught,
The like o 'm I neer did see;
Before he'd taen the lamb he's taen,
I'd rather he'd taen other three.' |
| 15 |
Or eer six months were past and gane,
Six months but other three,
This lassie begud for to fret and frown,
And lang for his blinking ee. |
| 16 |
It fell upon another day,
When ca'ing out her father's kye,
That by came the troop o gentlemen,
Sae merrily riding by. |
| 17 |
Then ane of them stopt, and said to her,
'Wha's aught that bairn ye're wi?'
The lassie began for to blush, and think,
To a father as good as ye. |
| 18 |
She turnd her right and round about
And thought nae little shame;
Then a' to him that she did say,
'I've a father to my bairn at hame.' |
| 19 |
'Ye lie, ye lie, ye well-fared may,
Sae loud's I hear ye lie!
For dinna ye mind yon misty night
I was in the bught wi thee? |
| 20 |
'I gave you a silver comb,
To comb your yellow hair;
I bade you keep it for my sake,
For fear ye'd never get mair. |
| 21 |
'I pat my hand in my pocket,
I gae you guineas three;
I bade you keep them for my sake,
And pay the nourice's fee.' |
| 22 |
He's lappen aff his berry-brown steed
And put that fair maid on;
'Ca hame your kye, auld father,' he says,
'She shall never mair return. |
| 23 |
'I am the laird o the Rock-rock lays,
Hae thirty ploughs and three,
And this day will wed the fairest maid
That eer my eyes did see.'
O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,
The broom grows oer the burn!
Aye when she minds on his yellow hair,
She shall neer hae cause to mourn. |
