*53*

ADAM OF GORDON

IT fell about the Martinmas,

When the wind blew shrill and cold,
Said Adam of Gordon to his men,
'We maun draw to a hold.

'And whatna hold shall we draw to,

My merry men and me?

'We will go to the house of Rodes,
'To see that fair ladye.'

The lady stood on her castle wall;
Beheld both dale and down;

There she was aware of a host of men
Came riding towards the town.

'O see ye not, my merry men all,
'O see ye not what I see?
'Methinks I see a host of men :
'I marvel who they be.'

She had no sooner buskit herself,
And putten on her gown,

Till Adam of Gordon and his men
Were round about the town.

The lady ran to her tower-head,
As fast as she could hie,
To see if by her fair speeches
She could with him agree.

'Give o'er your house, ye lady fair,
Give o'er your house to me!
'Or I shall burn yourself therein,
'But and your babies three.'

4 maun draw to a hold, must go to a castle

12 town, walled dwelling-place.

28 but and, and also

7 Rodes, Rothes

17 buskit, dressed

'I winna give o'er, ye false Gordon,
To no sic traitor as thee;

'And if ye burn my ain dear babes,
'My lord shall mak' ye dree.

Woe worth, woe worth ye, Jock, my man;

I paid ye well your fee ;

'Why pull ye out the grund-wa' stone,

'Lets in the reek to me?

'And e'en woe worth ye, Jock, my man!
'I paid ye well your hire;

'Why pull ye out the grund-wa' stone,
'To me lets in the fire?'

-' Ye paid me well my hire, ladye,
'Ye paid me well my fee;

( But now I'm Adam of Gordon's man,-
'Must either do or dee.'

O then bespake her little son,

Sat on the nurse's knee;

Says, ' O mither dear, give o'er this house!
'For the reek it smothers me.'

-‘I winna give up my house, my dear,

'To no sic traitor as he :

Come weel, come woe, my jewel fair,

'Ye maun take share with me.'

O then bespake her daughter dear,-
She was both jimp and small :
'O row me in a pair of sheets,
'And tow me o'er the wall!'

29 winna, will not
35 grund-wa', foundation
54 jimp, slender

32 dree, suffer for it
36 reek, smoke

34 fee, wages 44 dee, die

55 row, roll

They row'd her in a pair of sheets,
And tow'd her o'er the wall;
But on the point of Gordon's spear
She gat a deadly fall.

O bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,
And cherry were her cheeks,
And clear, clear was her yellow hair,
Whereon the red blood dreeps!

Then with his spear he turn'd her o'er ;
O gin her face was wan!

He said, 'Ye are the first that e'er
'I wish'd alive again.

'Busk and boun, my merry men all,
'For ill dooms I do guess ;-
I cannot look on that bonnie face
'As it lies on the grass.'

But when the ladye saw the fire
Come flaming o'er her head,

She wept, and kiss'd her children twain,
Says, Bairns, we be but dead.'

-O this way look'd her own dear lord,

As he came o'er the lea;

He saw his castle all in a lowe,
So far as he could see.

'Put on, put on, my mighty men,
'As fast as ye can dri'e!

'For he that's hindmost of the thrang
'Shall ne'er get good of me!'

66 gin, if

70 I see evil coming

69 busk and boun, prepare and get ready

79 lowe, red flame 82 dri'e, drive

Then some they rade, and some they ran,
Out-o'er the grass and bent;

But ere the foremost could win up,
Both lady and babes were brent.

And after the Gordon he is gane,

Sae fast as he might dri'e;

And soon i' the Gordon's foul heart's blood He's wroken his fair ladye.

* 54 *

HUNTING SONG

THE hunt is up, the hunt is up,

And it is well nigh day;

And Harry our king is gone hunting
To bring his deer to bay.

Unknown

The east is bright with morning light,
And darkness it is fled;

And the merry horn wakes up the morn
To leave his idle bed.

Behold the skies with golden dyes

Are glowing all around;

The grass is green, and so are the treen
All laughing at the sound.

The horses snort to be at sport,

The dogs are running free,

The woods rejoice at the merry noise

Of Hey tantara tee ree!

The sun is glad to see us clad

All in our lusty green,

And smiles in the sky as he riseth high

To see and to be seen.

87 win, come

92 wroken, revenged 11 treen, trees

18 green, dress

Awake all men, I say again,

Be merry as you may;

For Harry our king is gone hunting,

To bring his deer to bay.

Unknown

* 55 *

THE RETIRED CAT

A POET'S cat, sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire
For nooks to which she might retire,
And where, secure as mouse in chink,
She might repose, or sit and think.
Sometimes ascending, debonair,
An apple-tree, or lofty pear,

Lodged with convenience in the fork,
She watch'd the gardener at his work:
Sometimes her ease and solace sought
In an old empty watering-pot;
There, wanting nothing save a fan
To seem some nymph in her sedan,
Apparell'd in exactest sort,

And ready to be borne to court.

But love of change it seems has place

Not only in our wiser race;

Cats also feel, as well as we,

That passion's force, and so did she.
Her climbing, she began to find,
Exposed her too much to the wind,
And the old utensil of tin

Was cold and comfortless within:

1 sedate, sober

3 addicted, fond of

7 debonair, cheerful II solace, comfort 15 dressed in the height of fashion

14 nymph, young lady 23 utensil, the watering-pot