aid: broad The king has written a braid letter, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, The first line that Sir Patrick red, The next line that Sir Patrick red, "O wha is this has don this deid, To send me out this time o' the yeir, "Mak hast, mak hast, my mirry men all, Our guid schip sails the morne:" "O say na sae, my master deir, For I feir a deadlie storme. "Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone, And I feir, I feir, my deir master, O our Scots nobles wer richt laith O lang, lang may their ladies sit, Laith: loath Owre: before O lang, lang may the ladies stand, Wi thair gold kems in their hair, Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour, And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, Wi the Scots lords at his feit. Old Ballad ་ 7 "W TILLY'S rare, and Willy's fair, "Yestreen I made my bed fu brade, "O came you by yon water-side? She sought him east, she sought him west, Sine, in the clifting of a craig, She found him drownd in Yarrow. Clifting: fissure Marrow: sweetheart Old Ballad Twin'd: deprived 8 "WHY EDWARD, EDWARD HY dois your brand sae drap wi bluid, Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid, "O I hae killed my hauke sae guid, OI hae killed my hauke sae guid, "Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, "O I hae killed my reid-roan steid, OI hae killed my reid-roan steid, That erst was sae fair and frie O." "Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair, OI hae killed my fadir deir, "And whatten penance wul ye Edward, Edward? drie for that, Drie: suffer Dule: grief And whatten penance wul ye drie for that? My deir son, now tell me O." "Ile set my feit in yonder boat, Mither, mither, Ile set my feit in yonder boat, And Ile fare ovir the sea O." "And what wul ye doe wi your towirs and your ha, And what wul ye doe wi your towirs and your ha, "Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa, Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa, For here nevir mair maun I bee O." "And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, Edward, Edward? And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, "The warldis room, late them beg thrae life, Mither, mither, The warldis room, late them beg thrae life, “And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir, And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir? "The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir, The curse of hell frae me sall ye beir, Sic counseils ye gave to me O.” Old Ballad THE TWA CORBIES As its a SI was walking all alane I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, "Where sall we gang and dine to-day?" "In behint yon auld fail dyke, "His hound is to the hunting gane, "Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pick out his bonny blue een; We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. "Mony a one for him makes mane, O'er his white banes, when they are bare, The wind sall blaw for evermair." es: ravens turf Hause-bane: neck-bone Old Ballad Tane: one |