The Lass of Lochroyan

"O wae betide ye, ill woman,

An ill death may ye dee!

That wadna open the door yoursell
Nor yet wad waken me."

O he's gane down to yon shore-side,
As fast as he could dree,

And there he saw fair Annie's bark
A rowing owre the sea.

"O Annie, Annie," loud he cried,
"O Annie, Annie, bide!"

But ay the maiŕ he cried “Annie,”
The braider grew the tide.

“O Annie, Annie, dear Annie,
Dear Annie, speak to me!"
But ay the louder he gan call,
The louder roared the sea.

The wind blew loud, the waves rose hie
And dashed the boat on shore;
Fair Annie's corse was in the faem,
The babe rose never more.

Lord Gregory tore his gowden locks
And made a wafu' mane;
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
His bonny son was gane.

"O cherry, cherry was her cheek,

And gowden was her hair,

And coral, coral was her lips,

Nane might with her compare."

Then first he kissed her pale, pale cheek,
And syne he kissed her chin,

And

syne he kissed her wane, wane lips, There was na breath within.

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"O wae betide my ill mither,

An ill death may she dee!

She turned my true-love frae my door,
Wha cam so far to me.

"O wae betide my ill mither, An ill death may she dee!

She has no been the deid o' ane,

But she's been the deid o' three."

Then he's ta'en out a little dart,

Hung low down by his gore,

He thrust it through and through his heart,
And word spak never more.

Unknown

YOUNG BEICHAN AND SUSIE PYE

IN London was young Beichan born,

He longed strange countries for to see; But he was ta'en by a savage Moor, Who handled him right cruellie;

For he viewed the fashions of that land:
Their way of worship viewèd he;
But to Mahound, or Termagant,
Would Beichan never bend a knee.

So in every shoulder they've putten a bore,
In every bore they've putten a tree,
And they have made him trail the wine
And spices on his fair bodie.

They've casten him in a dungeon deep,

Where he could neither hear nor see;

And fed him on naught but bread and water,
Till he for hunger's like to dee.

This Moor he had but ae daughter,

Her name was called Susie Pye;
And every day as she took the air,
Near Beichan's prison she passed by.

Young Beichan and Susie Pye 2563

And so it fell upon a day,

About the middle time of Spring,
As she was passing by that way,
She heard young Beichan sadly sing:

"My hounds they all run masterless,
My hawks they fly frae tree to tree;
My youngest brother will heir my lands;
Fair England again I'll never see.

"Oh were I free as I hae been,

And my ship swimming once more on sea, I'd turn my face to fair England,

And sail no more to a strange countrie!"

All night long no rest she got,

Young Beichan's song for thinking on; She's stown the keys from her father's head, And to the prison strang is gone.

And she has opened the prison doors,
I wot she opened two or three,
Ere she could come young Beichan at,
He was locked up so curiouslie.

But when she cam' young Beichan till,
Sore wondered he that may to see;

He took her for some fair captive:
"Fair lady, I pray, of what countrie?"

"O have ye any lands," she said,

"Or castles in your ain countrie,

That ye could give a lady fair,

From prison strang to set you free?"

"Near London town I have a hall,

And other castles two or three;

I'll give them all to the lady fair
That out of prison will set me free."

"Give me the truth of your right hand,
The truth of it give unto me,

That for seven years ye'll no lady wed,
Unless it be alang wi' me."

"I'll give thee the truth of my right hand, The truth of it I'll freely gie,'

That for seven years I'll stay unwed,

For the kindness thou dost show to me."

And she has bribed the proud warder
Wi' mickle gold and white monie;
She's gotten the keys of the prison strang,
And she has set young Beichan free.

She's gi'en him to eat the good spice-cake; She's gi'en him to drink the blude-red wine; She's bidden him sometimes think on her That sae kindly freed him out o' pine.

And she has broken her finger ring,
And to Beichan half of it gave she;
"Keep it to mind you of that love
The lady bore that set you free.

"And set your foot on good ship-board,

And haste ye back to your ain countrie; And before that seven years have an end, Come back again, love, and marry me."

But lang ere seven years had an end,
She longed full sore her love to see;
So she's set her foot on good ship-board.
And turned her back to her ain countrie.

She sailed east, she sailèd west,

Till to fair England's shore she came; Where a bonny shepherd she espied, Feeding his sheep upon the plain.

Young Beichan and Susie Pye 2565

"What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?
What news has thou to tell to me?"
"Such news I hear, ladie," he says,
"The like was never in this countrie.

"There is a wedding in yonder hall,
And ever the bells ring merrilie;
It is Lord Beichan's wedding-day
Wi' a lady fair o' high degree."

She's putten her hand in her pocket,
Gi'en him the gold and white monie;
"Here, take ye that, my bonny boy,
All for the news thou tell'st to me."

When she came to young Beichan's gate,
She tirlèd softly at the pin:

So ready was the proud porter
To open and let this lady in.

"Is this young Beichan's hall," she said, "Or is that noble lord within?"

"Yea, he's in the hall among them all, And this is the day o' his weddin'."

"And has he wed anither love?
And has he clean forgotten me?"
And, sighin', said that ladie gay,

"I wish I were in my ain countrie."

And she has ta'en her gay gold ring,
That with her love she brake sae free;
Says, "Gie him that, ye proud porter,
And bid the bridegroom speak wi' me."

When the porter came his lord before,
He kneeled low upon his knee-
"What aileth thee, my proud porter,
Thou art so full of courtesie?"