THE YOUNG TAMLANE

  O I forbid ye, maidens a’,
    That wear gowd on your hair,
  To come or gae by Carterhaugh;
    For young Tamlane is there.

  There’s nane, that gaes by Carterhaugh,
    But maun leave him a wad;
  Either goud rings or green mantles,
    Or else their maidenheid.

  Now, gowd rings ye may buy, maidens,
    Green mantles ye may spin;
  But, gin ye lose your maidenheid,
    Ye’ll ne’er get that agen.

  But up then spak her, fair Janet,
    The fairest o’ a’ her kin;
  “I’ll cum and gang to Carterhaugh,
    “And ask nae leave o’ him.”

  Janet has kilted her green kirtle,[A]
    A little abune her knee;
  And she has braided her yellow hair,
    A little abune her bree.

  And when she cam to Carterhaugh,
    She gaed beside the well;
  And there she fand his steed standing,
    But away was himsell.

  She hadna pu’d a red red rose,
    A rose but barely three;
  Till up and starts a wee wee man,
    At Lady Janet’s knee.

  Says—­“Why pu’ ye the rose, Janet? 
    “What gars ye break the tree? 
  “Or why come ye to Carterhaugh,
    “Withoutten leave o’ me?”

  Says—­“Carterhaugh it is mine ain;
    “My daddie gave it me;
  “I’ll come and gang to Carterhaugh,
    “And ask nae leave o’ thee.”

  He’s ta’en her by the milk-white hand,
    Amang the leaves sae green;
  And what they did I cannot tell—­
    The green leaves were between.

  He’s ta’en her by the milk-white hand,
    Amang the roses red;
  And what they did I cannot say—­
    She ne’er returned a maid.

  When she cam to her father’s ha’,
    She looked pale and wan;
  They thought she’d dried some sair sickness,
    Or been wi’ some leman.

  She didna comb her yellow hair,
    Nor make meikle o’ her heid;
  And ilka thing, that lady took,
    Was like to be her deid.

  Its four and twenty ladies fair
    Were playing at the ba’;
  Janet, the wightest of them anes,
    Was faintest o’ them a’.

  Four and twenty ladies fair
    Were playing at the chess;
  And out there came the fair Janet,
    As green as any grass.

  Out and spak an auld gray-headed knight,
    Lay o’er the castle wa’—­
  “And ever alas! for thee, Janet,
    “But we’ll be blamed a’!”

  “Now haud your tongue, ye auld gray knight! 
    “And an ill deid may ye die! 
  “Father my bairn on whom I will,
    “I’ll father nane on thee.”

  Out then spak her father dear,
    And he spak meik and mild—­
  “And ever alas! my sweet Janet,
    “I fear ye gae with child.”

  “And, if I be with child, father,
    “Mysell maun bear the blame;
  “There’s ne’er a knight about your ha’
    “Shall hae the bairnie’s name.