“Before the turf, where I now stand,
“The fause nurse
buried me;
“Thy cruel penknife sticks still
in my heart,
“And I come not
back to thee.”
[Footnote A: Propine—Usually gift, but here the power of giving or bestowing.]
* * * * *
LORD WILLIAM
This ballad was communicated to me by Mr James Hogg; and, although it bears a strong resemblance to that of Earl Richard, so strong, indeed, as to warrant a supposition, that the one has been derived from the other, yet its intrinsic merit seems to warrant its insertion. Mr Hogg has added the following note, which, in the course of my enquiries, I have found most fully corroborated.
“I am fully convinced of the antiquity of this song; for, although much of the language seems somewhat modernized, this must be attributed to its currency, being much liked, and very much sung, in this neighbourhood. I can trace it back several generations, but cannot hear of its ever having been in print. I have never heard it with any considerable variation, save that one reciter called the dwelling of the feigned sweetheart, Castleswa.”
LORD WILLIAM
Lord William was the bravest knight
That dwait in fair Scotland,
And, though renowned in France and Spain,
Fell by a ladie’s
hand.
As she was walking maid alone,
Down by yon shady wood.
She heard a smit[A] o’ bridle reins,
She wish’d might be
for good.
“Come to my arms, my dear Willie,
“You’re
welcome hame to me;
“To best o’ chear and charcoal
red,[B]
“And candle burnin’ free.”
“I winna light, I darena light,
“Nor come to your
arms at a’;
“A fairer maid than ten o’
you,
“I’ll meet
at Castle-law.”
“A fairer maid than me, Willie!
“A fairer maid
than me!
“A fairer maid than ten o’
me,
“Your eyes did
never see.”
He louted owr his saddle lap,
To kiss her ere they
part,
And wi’ a little keen bodkin,
She pierced him to the
heart.
“Ride on, ride on, lord William,
now,
“As fast as ye
can dree!
“Your bonny lass at Castle-law
“Will weary you
to see.”
Out up then spake a bonny bird,
Sat high upon a tree,—
How could you kill that noble lord?
“He came to marry
thee.”
“Come down, come down, my bonny
bird,
“And eat bread
aff my hand!
“Your cage shall be of wiry goud,
“Whar now its
but the wand.”
“Keep ye your cage o’ goud,
lady,
“And I will keep
my tree;
“As ye hae done to lord William.,
“Sae wad ye do
to me.”
She set her foot on her door step,
A bonny marble stane;
And carried him to her chamber,
O’er him to make
her mane.