She hadna well gane up the stair

And enter'd in the tower,

When four and twenty armed knights
Came riding to the door.

"Now God you save, my fair lady!
Declare to me, I pray,

Did you not see a wounded knight
Come riding by this way?"

"Yes! bluidy, bluidy was his sword,
And bluidy were his hands;
But if the steed he ride be good,
He's past fair Scotland's strands.

"Light down! light down then, gentlemen!
And take some bread and wine :
The better you will him pursue
When you shall lightly dine."

Then she's gane to her secret bower,
Her husband dear to meet ;
But out he drew his bluidy sword
And wounded her fu' deep.

"What harm, my lord! provokes thine ire To wreak itself on me?

Have I not saved thy life from foes?-
And saved for sic a fee!"

"Now live, now live, my dear lady!
O live but half an hour,

There's ne'er a leech in a' Scotland
But shall be at thy bower!"

"How can I live, how shall I live,
How can I live for thee?

See ye not where my red heart's bluid
Runs trickling down my knee?"

BURD ELLEN.

Lord John stood in his stable door,
Said he was boun to ride;

Burd Ellen stood in her bower door,
Said she'd run by his side.

He's putten on his cork-heel'd shoon,
And fast away rade he;
She's clad herself in page array,
And after him ran she.

Till they came to a wan water,
And folk do call it Clyde ;

Then he's look'd owre his left shoulder,
Says "Lady! will ye ride?"

"O I learn'd it wi' my bower woman,
And I learn'd it for my weal,
Whenever I came to wan water
To swim like ony eel."

But the firsten step the lady stepp'd, The water came till her knee; "Ochone! alas!" said [burd Ellen],— "This water's owre deep for me."

The nexten step the lady stepp'd,
The water came till her middle;
And sighing says [then burd Ellen],-
"I've wet my gowden girdle!"

The thirden step the lady stepp'd,
The water came till her pap;

And the bairn that was in her twa sides
For cauld began to [lap].

"Lie still lie still, my ain dear babe!

Ye work your mother wae ;

Your father rides on high horseback,
Cares little for us twae."

O about the midst o' Clyde's water
There was a yeard-fast stane;
He lightly turn'd his horse about,
And took her on him behin'.

"O tell me this now, good lord John!
And a word ye dinna lee,-
How far it is to your lodging,

Where we this night may be?"

"My dogs shall eat the good white bread,

And ye shall eat the bran!

Then will ye sigh, and say Alas

That ever I was a man."

"O I shall eat the good white bread,
And your dogs shall eat the bran;
And I hope to live to bless the day
That ever ye was a man."

"O my horse shall eat the good white meal, And ye shall eat the corn;

Then will ye curse the heavy hour

That ever your Love was born."

"OI shall eat the good white meal,

And your horse shall eat the corn;
I aye shall bless the happy hour
That ever my Love was born."

O four and twenty gay ladies
Welcomed lord John to the hall;
But a fairer lady than them a'

Led his horse to the stable stall.

O four and twenty gay ladies

Welcomed lord John to the green;

But a fairer lady than them a'

At the manger stood alane.

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And a' men boun to meat,
Burd Ellen was at the bye-table
Among the pages set.

“O eat and drink, my bonny boy!
The white bread and the beer."
"The never a bit can I eat or drink,
My heart's sae fu' o' fear."

"O eat and drink, my bonny boy!
The white bread and the wine."
"O how shall I eat or drink, master!
Wi' heart sae fu' o' pine?"

But out and spake lord John's mother,
And a wise woman was she :
"Where met ye wi' that bonny boy
That looks sae sad on thee?

"Sometimes his cheek is rosy red,
And sometimes deadly wan;
He's liker a woman big wi' bairn

Than a young lord's serving man.”

"O it makes me laugh, my mother dear!
Sic words to hear frae thee;

He is a squire's ae dearest son,
That for love has follow'd me.

"Rise up! rise up, my bonny boy!
Gi'e my horse corn and hay!
"O that I will, my master dear!
As quickly as I may."

She's ta'en the hay under her arm,
The corn intill her han',

And she's gane to the great stable
As fast as e'er she can.

"O room ye round, my bonny steeds! O room ye near the wall!

For the pain that strikes me through the sides Fu' soon will gar me fall."

She's lean'd her back against the wall,

Strong travail came her on;

And there amang the great horse feet
Burd Ellen brought forth her son.

Lord John's mother intill her bower
Was sitting all alone,

When in the silence o' the night
She heard Burd Ellen's moan.

"Won up! won up, my son!" she says,—
"Gae see how a' does fare!
For I think I hear a woman's groans
And a bairnie greeting sair."

O hastily he gat him up,

Stay'd neither for hose nor shoon, And he's gat him to the stable door Wi' the clear light o' the moon.