The Broom of Cowdenknows
No: 217; variant: 217N
- O THERE war a troop o merry gentlemen
Cam riding oure the knowes,
And they hear the voice o a bonny lass,
In the bichts, milking the yowes.
- 'O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!
O saved may ye be!
My steed he has riden wrang,
Fain wad I ken the way.'
- She has tane the steed by the bridle-reins,
Has led him till the way,
And he has tane out three gowd rings,
Gien them to that bonnie may.
- And he has tane her by the milk-white hand
And by the gerss-green sleeve,
And he laid her doun on the side o yon hill,
At her daddie speird na leave.
- Now she has hame to her father gane,
Her father did her blame:
'O whare hae ye been, my ae dochter?
For ye hae na been your lane.'
- 'O the nicht is mirk, and very, very wet,
Ye may gang to the door and see;
O there's nabody been wi me, father,
There's nabody been wi me.
- 'But there cam a tod to your bucht, father,
The like o him I neer saw;
Afore you'd gien him the lamb that he took,
Ye'd rather hae gien them a'.
- 'O wae be to my father's sheep-hird,
An ill death may he dee!
For bigging the bucht sae nar the road,
Let the Lochinvar to me!'
- She's tane her pig and her cog in her hand,
And she's gane to milk the kye;
But ere she was aware, the Laird o Lochinvar
Cam riding in the way.
- 'O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!
I wish ye may be sound;
O save thee, O save thee, my bonnie may!
What maks thy belly sae round?'
- O she has turnd hersel round about,
And she within her thoucht shame:
'O it's nabody's wills wi me, kind sir,
For I hae a gudeman o my ain.'
- 'Ye lee, ye lee, my bonnie may,
Weel do I ken ye lee!
For dinna ye mind o the three gowd rings
I gied ye o the new moneye?'
- 'O weel do I mind thee, kind sir,
O weel do I mind thee;
For ae when ye spak ye lifted up your hat,
And ye had a bonnie twinklin ee.'
- 'O ye need na toil yoursel, my dear,
Neither to card nor to spin;
For there's ten pieces I gie unto thee;
Keep them for your lying in.'
- Now she has hame to her father gane,
As fast as she could hie;
And she was na weel crownd wi joy
Till her auld son gat she.
- But she'll na tell the daddie o it
Till father not to mither,
And she'll na tell the daddie o it
To sister nor to brither.
- And word is to the Lochinvar,
And word is to him gane,
That sic a tenant's dochter
Has born a bastard son:
- And she'll na tell the daddie o it
To father nor to mither,
And she'll na tell the daddie o it
Till sister nor to brither.
- 'O weel do I ken the reason o that,
And the reason weel do I ken;
O weel ken I the reason o that;
It's to some o her father's men.
- 'But I will awa to Littlejohn's house,
Shule them out o the door;
For there's na tenant on a' my land
Shall harbour an arrant hure.'
- Then out and spak the house-keeper,
'Ye'd better lat her abee;
For an onie harm befa this may,
A' the wyte will be on me.'
- O he has turnd himsel round about,
Within himsel thoucht he
'Better do I loe her little finger
Than a' thy haill bodie.
- 'Gae saddle to me my six coach-mares,
Put a' their harness on,
And I will awa to Littlejohn's house
For reports o this bastard son.'
- Now whan he cam to Littlejohn's house,
Littlejohn was at the door:
'Ye rascal, ye rogue, ye impudent dog,
Will ye harbour an arrant hure!'
- 'O pardon me, my sovereign liege,
O pardon me, I pray;
Oh that the nicht that she was born
She'd deed the very neist day!'
- But he is in to his bonnie lassie gane,
And has bolted the door behind,
And there he has kissd his bonnie lassie sweet,
It's over and over again.
- 'Ye did weel, ye did weel, my bonnie may,
To keep the secret twixt me and thee;
For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,
The lady o 't I'll mak thee.
- 'Come doun, come duun, now gentlemen a',
And set this fair lady on;
Mither, ye may milk the ewes as ye will,
For she'll neer milk them again.
- 'For I am the laird o the Ochilberry swair,
O thirty plows and three,
And I hae gotten the bonniest may
That's in a' the south countrie.'