"Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy," No 31,
Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.
| 1 |
'Gae fetch to me James Pringle wi hast,
An see that he come speedilie,
For he maun on to Ettrick forest,
An see whae pays yon men meat and fee.' |
| 2 |
When James Pringle cam down oer Birkendalee,
The hawks war yellin right loudlie,
The hunds war rinnin oer hill and dale,
As the bugle-horn soundit bonnilie. |
| 3 |
'Gae tell yer king this land's my ain,
An to thir men I pay meat and fee;
I took it thrae the Souden Turk,
When nae sic cuckold king might be. |
| 4 |
'Sae as I wan, sae will I lose,
Spite o the kings in Christendie;
I never was a king's subject,
Nor a king's subject will I ever be.' |
| 5 |
'Outlaw Murray says yon land's his ain,
And to yon men he pays meat and fee;
He took it frae the Souden Turk,
When you and your men durstna come and see.' |
| 6 |
It was than the king he gat up in hast,
An wow an angrie man was he!
'I'se either be king o Ettrick forest,
Or king o Scotland sal he be. |
| 7 |
'Gar warn me Fife an a' Lothian land,
An Perth an Angus, to ride wi me,
For gin we war five thousan strang
Master and mair I fear he'll be.' |
| 8 |
When the king came oer be Birkendalee,
He spy'd the forest wi his ee;
There war daes an raes an monie wild beast,
An a castle stannin right bonnilie. |
| 9 |
An in that castle a unicorn,
An, waly, but they war fair to see!
A warlike knight and a lady bright,
An the green halleen aboon her bree. |
| 10 |
An Outlaw Murray an his merry men
War a' rankit up i the Newark lee,
Well mountit on a milk-white steed;
Waly, he rankit them bonnilie! |
| 11 |
His men war a clad oer wi green,
An he was clad i the taffatie,
Wi belt an pistle by his side;
O waly, but they war fair to see!
* * * * * * * |
| 12 |
'Haliday young an Halliday auld,
Ye ir the men that man ride wi me;
But gin we war five hunder strang
Master an mair I fear they'll be.'
* * * * * * * |
| 13 |
'Philliphaugh it is my ain,
An Newark it belangs to me;
Lewinshope an Hanginshaw
Nae mortal man can claim thrae me.'
* * * * * * * |
| 14 |
It was than James Boyd got up in hast,
An to his merry men a' spak he;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . . |
