No: 17; variant: 17G
- ‘HYNDE HORN’S bound love, and Hynde Horn’s free,
Whare was ye born, or in what countrie?’
- ‘In gude greenwud whare I was born,
And all my friends left me forlorn.
- ‘I gave my love a silver wand;
That was to rule oure all Scotland.
- ‘My love gave me a gay gowd ring;
That was to rule abune a’ thing.’
- ‘As lang as that ring keeps new in hue,
Ye may ken that your love loves you.
- ‘But whan that ring turns pale and wan,
Ye may ken that your love loves anither man.’
- He hoisted up his sails, and away sailed he,
Till that he cam to a foreign countrie.
- He looked at his ring; it was turnd pale and wan;
He said, ‘I wish I war at hame again.’
- He hoisted up his sails, and hame sailed he,
Until that he came to his ain countrie.
- The first ane that he met wi
Was wi a puir auld beggar man.
- ‘What news, what news, my silly old man?
What news hae ye got to tell to me?’
- ‘Na news, na news,’ the puir man did say,
‘But this is our queen’s wedding day.’
- ‘Ye’ll lend me your begging weed,
And I’ll gie you my riding steed.’
- ‘My begging weed is na for thee,
Your riding steed is na for me.’
- But he has changed wi the beggar man,
. . . . .
- ‘Which is the gate that ye used to gae?
And what are the words ye beg wi?’
- ‘Whan ye come to yon high hill,
Ye’ll draw your bent bow nigh until.
- ‘Whan ye come to yonder town,
Ye’ll let your bent bow low fall down.
- ‘Ye’ll seek meat for St Peter, ask for St Paul,
And seek for the sake of Hynde Horn all.
- ‘But tak ye frae nane of them a’,
Till ye get frae the bonnie bride hersel O.’
- Whan he cam to yon high hill,
He drew his bent bow nigh until.
- And whan he cam to yonder town,
He lute his bent bow low fall down.
- He saught meat for St Peter, he askd for St Paul,
And he sought for the sake of Hynde Horn all.
- But he would tak frae nane o them a’,
Till he got frae the bonnie bride hersel O.
- The bride cam tripping doun the stair,
Wi the scales o red gowd on her hair.
- Wi a glass of red wine in her hand,
To gie to the puir auld beggar man.
- It’s out he drank the glass o wine,
And into the glass he dropt the ring.
- ‘Got ye’t by sea, or got ye’t by land,
Or got ye’t aff a drownd man’s hand?’
- ‘I got na’t by sea, I got na’t by land,
Nor got I it off a drownd man’s hand.
- ‘But I got it at my wooing,
And I’ll gie it at your wedding.’
- ‘I’ll tak the scales o gowd frae my head,
I’ll follow you, and beg my bread.
- ‘I’ll tak the scales of gowd frae my hair,
I’ll follow you, for evermair.’
- She has tane the scales o gowd frae her head,
She has followed him to beg her bread.
- She has tane the scales o gowd frae her hair,
And she has followed him for evermair.
- But atween the kitchen and the ha,
There he lute his cloutie cloak fa.
- And the red gowd shined oure him a’,
And the bride frae the bridegroom was stown awa.