PR Website - The Broom of Cowdenknows

THE lassie sang sae loud, sae loud, The lassie sang sae shill; The lassie sang, and the greenwud rang, At the farther side o yon hill.
Bye there cam a troop o merry gentlemen, They aw rode merry bye; The very first and the foremaist Was the first that spak to the may.
'This is a mark and misty nicht, And I have ridden wrang; If ye wad be sae gude and kind As to show me the way to gang.'
'If ye binna the laird o Lochnie's lands, Nor nane o his degree, I'll show ye a nearer road that will keep you frae The glen-waters and the raging sea.'
'I'm na the laird o Lochnie's lands, Nor nane o his degree; But I am as brave a knicht, And ride aft in his company.
'Have ye na pity on me, pretty maid? Have ye na pity on me? Have ye na pity on my puir steed, That stands trembling by yon tree?'
'What pity wad ye hae, kind sir? What pity wad ye hae frae me? Though your steed has neither corn nor hay, It has gerss at its liberty.'
He has trysted the pretty maid Till they cam to the brume, And at the end o yon ew-buchts It's there they baith sat doun.
Till up she raise, took up her milk-pails, And away gaed she hame; Up bespak her auld father, 'It's whare hae ye been sae lang?'
'This is a mark and a misty nicht, Ye may gang to the door and see; The ewes hae taen a skipping out-oure the knows, They winna bucht in for me.
'I may curse my father's shepherd; Some ill death mat he dee! He has buchted the ewes sae far frae the toun, And has trysted the young men to me.'