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Earl Brand

No: 7; variant: 7[I]

  1. ‘Rise up, rise up, Lord Douglas,’ she said, ‘And draw to your arms so bright; Let it never be said a daughter of yours Shall go with a lord or a knight.
  2. ‘Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons, And draw to your armour so bright; Let it never be said a sister of yours Shall go with a lord or a night.’
  3. He looked over his left shoulder, To see what he could see, And there he spy’d her seven brethren bold, And her father that lov’d her tenderly.
  4. ‘Light down, light down, Lady Margret,’ he said, ‘And hold my steed in thy hand. That I may go fitht with your seven brethren bold, And your father who’s just at hand.’
  5. O there she stood, and bitter she stood, And never did shed a tear, Till once she saw her seven brethren slain, And her father she lovd so dear.
  6. ‘Hold, hold your hand, William,’ she said, ‘For thy strokes are wondrous sore; For sweethearts I may get many a one, But a father I neer will get more.’
  7. She took out a handkerchief of holland so fine And wip’d her father’s bloody wound, Which ran more clear than the red wine, And forked on the cold ground.
  8. ‘O chuse you, chuse you, Margret,’ he said, ‘Whether you will go or bide!’ ‘I must go with you, Lord William,’ she said, ‘Since you’ve left me no other guide.’
  9. He lifted her on a milk-white steed, And himself on a dapple grey, With a blue gilded horn hanging by his side, And they slowly both rode away.
  10. Away they rode, and better they rode, Till they came to yonder sand, Till once they came to yon river side, And ther they lighted down.
  11. They lighted down to take a drink Of the spring that ran so clear, And there she spy’d his bonny heart’s blood, A running down the stream.
  12. ‘Hold up, hold up, Lord William,’ she says, ‘For I fear that you are slain;’ ‘‘Tis nought but the shade of my scarlet clothes, That is sparkling down the stream.’
  13. He lifted her on a milk-white steed, And himself on a dapple grey, With a blue gilded horn hanging by his side, And slowly they rode away.
  14. Ay they rode, and better they rode, Till they came to his mother’s bower; Till once they came to his mother’s bower, And down they lighted there.
  15. ‘O mother, mother, make my bed, And make it saft and fine, And lay my lady close at my back, That I may sleep most sound.’
  16. Lord William he died eer middle o the night, Lady Margret long before the morrow; Lord William he died for pure true love, And Lady Margret died for sorrow.
  17. Lord William was bury’d in Lady Mary’s kirk, The other in Saint Mary’s quire; Out of William’s grave sprang a red rose, And out of Margret’s a briar.
  18. And ay they grew, and ay they threw, As they wad fain been near; And by this you may ken right well They were twa lovers dear.