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340 |
LADT MAEJORIE. |
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Nane was sae ready as the gay lord himsell To open and let him in.
" O is there any of my towers burnt,
Or any of my castles won ? Or is Lady Marjorie brought to bed, *s
Of a daughter or a son ? "
" O there is nane of thy towers burnt,
Nor nane of thy castles broken; But Lady Marjorie is condemned to die,
To be burnt in a fire of oaken." so
" O gar saddle to me the black," he says,
" Gar saddle to me the broun ; Gar saddle to me the swiftest steed
That e'er carried a man frae toun!"
He left the black into the slap, a
The broun into the brae ; But fair fa' that bonnie apple-gray
That carried this gay lord away I
" Beet on, beet on, my brother dear,
I value you not one straw; m
For yonder comes my ain true luve,
I hear his horn blaw.
" Beet on, beet on, my father dear,
I value you not a pin; For yonder comes my ain true luve, a
I hear his bridle ring."
He took a little horn out of his pocket, And he blew't baith loud and schill; |
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