Glasgerion
No: 67; variant: 67B
- GLENKINDIE was ance a harper gude,
He harped to the king;
And Glenkindie was ance the best harper
That ever harpd on a string.
- He'd harpit a fish out o saut water,
Or water out o a stane,
Or milk out o a maiden's breast,
That bairn had never nane.
- He's taen his harp intil his hand,
He harpit and he sang,
And ay as he harpit to the king,
To haud him unthought lang.
- 'I'll gie you a robe, Glenkindie,
A robe o the royal pa,
Gin ye will harp i the winter's night
Afore my nobles a'.'
- He's taen his harp intill his hand,
He's harpit them a' asleep,
Except it was the young countess,
That love did waukin keep.
- And first he has harpit a grave tune,
And syne he has harpit a gay,
And mony a sich atween hands
I wat the lady gae.
- Says, Whan day is dawen, and cocks hae crawen,
And wappit their wings sae wide,
It's ye may come to my bower-door,
And streek you by my side.
- But look that ye tell na Gib, your man,
For naething that ye dee;
For, an ye tell him Gib, your man,
He'll beguile baith you and me.
- He's taen his harp intill his hand,
He harpit and he sang,
And he is hame to Gib, his man,
As fast as he could gang.
- 'O mith I tell you, Gib, my man,
Gin I a man had slain?'
'O that ye micht, my gude master,
Altho ye had slain ten.'
- 'Then tak ye tent now, Gib, my man,
My bidden for to dee;
And but an ye wauken me in time,
Ye sall be hangit hie.
- 'Whan day has dawen, and cocks hae crawen,
And wappit their wings sae wide,
I'm bidden gang till yon lady's bower,
And streek me by her side.'
- 'Gae hame to your bed, my good master;
Ye've waukit, I fear, oer lang;
For I'll wauken you in as good time
As ony cock i the land.'
- He's taen his harp intill his hand,
He harpit and he sang,
Until he harpit his master asleep,
Syne fast awa did gang.
- And he is till that lady's bower,
As fast as he could rin;
When he cam till that lady's bower,
He chappit at the chin.
- 'O wha is this,' says that lady,
'That opens nae and comes in?'
'It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true-love,
O open and lat me in!'
- She kent he was nae gentle knicht
That she had latten in,
For neither when he gaed nor cam,
Kist he her cheek or chin.
- He neither kist her when he cam,
Nor clappit her when he gaed,
And in and at her bower window,
The moon shone like the gleed.
- 'O ragged is your hose, Glenkindie,
And riven is your sheen,
And reaveld is your yellow hair,
That I saw late yestreen.'
- 'The stockings they are Gib, my man's,
They came first to my hand,
And this is Gib, my man's shoon,
At my bed-feet they stand;
I've reavelld a' my yellow hair
Coming against the wind.'
- He's taen the harp intill his hand,
He harpit and he sang,
Until he cam to his master,
As fast as he could gang.
- 'Won up, won up, my good master,
I fear ye sleep oer lang;
There's nae a cock in a' the land
But was wappit his wings and crawn.'
- Glenkindie's tane his harp in hand,
He harpit and he sang,
And he has reachd the lady's bower
Afore that eer he blan.
- When he cam to the lady's bower,
He chappit at the chin:
'O wha is that at my bower-door,
That opens na and comes in?'
'It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true-love,
And in I canna win.'
- 'Forbid it, forbid it,' says that lady,
'That ever sic shame betide,
That I should first be a wild loon's lass,
And than a young knight's bride.'
- He's taen his harp intill his hand,
He harpit and he sang,
And he is hame to Gib, his man,
As fast as he could gang.
- 'Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man,
Till I pay you your fee;
Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man,
Weel payit sall ye be.'
- And he has taen him Gib, his man,
And he has hangd him hie,
And he's hangit him oer his ain yate,
As high as high could be.
- There was nae pity for that lady,
For she lay cald and dead,
But a' was for him, Glenkindie,
In bower he must go mad.