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308 |
LOED BAKNABY. |
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" Come here, come here, my little foot-page,
This gold I will give thee, If ye will keep thir secrets close is
'Tween young Musgrave and me.
" But here I hae a little pen-knife,
Hings low down by my gare; Gin ye winna keep thir secrets close,
Ye'Il find it wonder sair." a>
Then she's ta'en him to her chamber,
And down in her arms lay he: The boy coost aff his hose and shoon,
And ran to fair Dundee.
When he cam to the wan water, »
He slack'd his bow and swam; And when he cam to growin grass,
Set down his feet and ran.
And when he cam to fair Dundee,
Wad neither chap nor ca'; ki
But set his brent bow to his breast,
And merrily jump'd the wa\
" O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,
Waken, and come away!"— " What ails, what ails my wee foot page, *
He cries sae lang ere day.
" O is my bowers brent, my boy ? Or is my castle won ?
26. For tlack'd read bent. J. |
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