Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair,
    And made a heavy moan;
  Fair Annie’s corpse lay at his feet,
    Her bonny young son was gone.

  O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
    And gowden was her hair;
  But clay-cold were her rosy lips—­
    Nae spark o’ life was there.

  And first he kissed her cherry cheek,
    And syne he kissed her chin,
  And syne he kissed her rosy lips—­
    There was nae breath within.

  “O wae betide my cruel mother! 
    “An ill death may she die! 
  “She turned my true love frae my door,
    “Wha came sae far to me.

  “O wae betide my cruel mother! 
    “An ill death may she die! 
  “She turned fair Annie frae my door,
    “Wha died for love o’ me.”

[Footnote A:  Tows—­Ropes.]

[Footnote B:  Jawing—­Dashing.]

ROSE THE RED AND WHITE LILLY.

NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

This legendary Tale is given chiefly from Mrs BROWN’S MS. Accordingly, many of the rhymes arise from the Northern mode of pronunciation; as dee for do, and the like.—­Perhaps the Ballad may have originally related to the history of the celebrated ROBIN HOOD; as mention is made of Barnisdale, his favourite abode.

  O Rose the Red, and White Lilly,
   Their mother deir was dead: 
  And their father has married an ill woman,
   Wished them twa little guid.

  But she had twa as gallant sons
   As ever brake man’s bread;
  And the tane o’ them lo’ed her, White Lilly,
   And the tother Rose the Red.

  O bigged hae they a bigly bour,
    Fast by the roaring strand;
  And there was mair mirth in the ladyes’ bour,
    Nor in a’ their father’s land.

  But out and spake their step-mother,
    As she stood a little forebye—­
  “I hope to live and play the prank,
    “Sall gar your loud sang lie.”

  She’s call’d upon her eldest son;
    “Cum here, my son, to me: 
  “It fears me sair, my bauld Arthur,
    “That ye maun sail the sea.”

  “Gin sae it maun be, my deir mother,
    “Your bidding I maun dee;
  “But, be never waur to Rose the Red,
    “Than ye hae been to me.”

  She’s called upon her youngest son;
    “Cum here, my son, to me: 
  “It fears me sair, my Brown Robin,
    “That ye maun sail the sea.”

  “Gin it fear ye sair, my mother deir,
    “Your bidding I sall dee;
  But, be never waur to White Lilly,
    “Than ye hae been to me.”

  “Now hand your tongues, ye foolish boys! 
    “For small sall be their part: 
  “They ne’er again sall see your face,
    “Gin their very hearts suld break.”

  Sae Bauld Arthur’s gane to our king’s court,
    His hie chamberlain to be;
  But Brown Robin, he has slain a knight,
    And to grene-wood he did flee.