Traditional & Folk Songs with lyrics & midi music www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
Geordie (3) 
(alternate:) 
GEORDI3.1.gif" 
Geordie (3) (Robert Burns) 
There was a battle in the north, And nobles there was many, And they hae kill'd Sir Charlie Hay, And they laid the wyte on Geordie 
O he has written a lang letter, He sent it to his lady; Ye maun cum up to Enbrugh town To see what words o' Geordie. 
When first she look'd the letter on, She was baith red and rosy; But she had na read a word but twa, Till she wallow't like a lily, 
Gar get to me my gude grey steed, My menzie a' gae wi' me; For I shall neither eat nor drink, Till Enbrugh town shall see me. 
And she has mountit her gude grey steed, Her menzie a' gaed wi' her; And she did neither eat nor drink Till Enbrugh town did see her. 
And first appear'd the fatal block, And syrie the aix to head him; And Geordie cumin down the stair, And bands o airn upon him. 
But tho' he was chain'd in fetters strang, O airn and steel sae heavy, There was na ane in a'the court, Sae bruw a Man as Geordie. 
O she's down on her bended knee, I wat she's pale and weary, 
O pardon, pardon, noble king, And gie me back my Dearie! 
I hae born seven sons to my Geordie dear, The seventh ne'er saw his daddie: 
O pardon, pardon, noble king, Pity a waefu' lady! 
Gar bid the headin-man mak haste! Our king reply'd fu' lordly: 
O noble king, tak a'that's mine, But gie me back my Geordie. 
The Gordons cam and the Gordons ran, And they were stark and steady; 
And ay the word amang them a' Was, Gordons keep you ready. 
An aged lord at the king's right hand Says, noble king, but hear me: 
Gar her tell down five thousand pound And gie her back her Dearie. 
Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, Some gae her dollars many; 
And shes tell'd down five thousand pound, And she's gotten, again her Dearie. 
She blinkit blythe in her Geordie's face, Says, dear I've bought thee, Geordie: 
But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green, Or I had tint my laddie. 
He claspit her by the middle sma', And he kist her lips sae rosy: 
The fairest flower o' woman-kind Is my sweet, bonie Lady! 
Child #209 Tune: Geordie - An old Ballad (358)