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amang Andrew Lammie auld baith ballad blude bonnie bonnie Lizie Baillie Border bouir Braes bride brother busk castle cauld Clerk Saunders copy dear deir Douglas doun Earl fair Annie fair Janet fair Scotland father fause fell flouir frae Fyvie gane gang Gordon gowd green gude hame hand haud Hazelgreen heid heire of Linne horse Jock John Johnie king knicht lady ladye Laird Lammikin licht Liddesdale Lord maid Margaret maun micht Minstrelsy mony mother Motherwell nae mair nane ne'er never ower rade richt ride sall says Scottish Sir Patrick Spens sister slain spak stanzas steed sune sweet sweit Syde Syne taen thee thou toun true love twa sisters wadna weel weip Willie winna Yarrow ye maun ye'll Young Bekie young Huntin
Page 282 - no more is fair, Those lips no longer red: Dark are my eyes, now closed in death; And every charm is fled. The hungry worm my sister is; This winding-sheet I wear: And cold and weary lasts our night, Till that last morn appear. But, hark! the cock has warned me hence ! A long,
Page 169 - bride ? How can I busk a winsome marrow ? How can I lo'e him on the banks o' Tweed That slew my love on the Braes o' Yarrow ? Oh, Yarrow fields, may never, never rain, Nor dew, thy tender blossoms cover! For there was basely slain my love, My luve, as he had not been a
Page 170 - th' expected husband-lover ! But who the expected husband, husband is? His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter Ah, me ! what ghastly spectre's yon, Comes, in his pale shroud, bleeding, after ? Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down; O lay his cold head on my pillow! Take off, take off these bridal
Page 169 - bonnie bride! Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow ! Busk ye, and lo'e me on the banks of Tweed, And think nae mair on the Braes of Yarrow." C. " How can I busk a bonnie, bonnie bride ? How can I busk a winsome marrow ? How can I lo'e him on the banks
Page 169 - My luve, as he had not been a lover. The boy put on his robes, his robes of green, His purple vest—'twas my ain sewing; Ah wretched me ! I little, little kenned, He was, in these, to meet his ruin. The boy took out his milk-white, milk-white steed, Unmindful of my dule and sorrow: But, ere the
Page 6 - They had na sail'da league, a league, A league, but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea. The anchors brak, and the tap-masts lap, It was sic a
Page 62 - since nae war's between the lands, And there is peace, and peace should be, I'll neither harm English lad nor lass, And yet the Kinmont freed shall be !" He has called him forty march-men bauld, I trow they were of his ain name, Except Sir Gilbert Elliot called, The Laird of
Page 61 - They led him through the Liddel rack, And also through the Carlisle sands; They brought him to Carlisle Castell, To be at my Lord Scroop's commands. " My hands are tied, but my tongue is free, And whae will daur this deed avow ? Or answer by the Border law ? Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch ?"
Page 66 - to Eden Water, Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim, And he has plunged in, wi' a' his band, And safely swam them through the stream. He turn'd him on the other side, And at Lord Scroop his glove flung he : '* If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me !