The Baron of Braikly
O Inverey came down Dee side, whistling and playing;
He 's landed at Braikly's yates at the day dawing.
Says, Baron of Braikly, are ye within?
There 's sharp swords at the yate will gar your blood spin.
The lady raise up, to the window she went;
She heard her kye lowing oer hill and oer bent.
‘O rise up, John,’ she says, ‘turn back your kye;
They 're oer the hills rinning, they 're skipping away.’
‘Come to your bed, Peggie, and let the kye rin,
For were I to gang out, I would never get in.’
Then she 's cry'd on her women, they quickly came ben:
‘Take up your rocks, Iassies, and fight a' like men.
‘Though I 'm but a woman, to head you I 'll try,
Nor let these vile Highland-men steal a' our kye.’
Then up gat the baron, and cry'd for his graith;
Says, Lady, I 'll gang, tho to leave you I 'm laith.
‘Come, kiss me, my Peggie, nor think I 'm to blame;
For I may well gang out, but I 'll never win in.’
When the Baron of Braikly rade through the close,
A gallanter baron neer mounted a horse.
Tho there came wi Inverey thirty and three,
There was nane wi bonny Braikly but his brother and he.
Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw;
But against four and thirty, wae 's me, what was twa?
Wi swords and wi daggers they did him surround,
And they 've pierc'd bonny Braikly wi mony a wound.
Frae the head of the Dee to the banks of the Spey,
The Gordons may mourn him, and bann Inverey.
‘O came ye by Braikly, and was ye in there?
Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?’
‘O I came by Braikly, and I was in there,
But I saw not his Peggy dear riving her hair.’
‘O fye on ye, lady! how could ye do sae?
You opend your yate to the faus Inverey.’
She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him in;
She welcomd the villain that slew her baron.
She kept him till morning, syne bad him be gane,
And showd him the road that he woud na be tane.
‘Thro Birss and Aboyne,’ she says, ‘Iyin in a tour,
Oer the hills of Glentanor you 'll skip in an hour.’
There is grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha,
But the Baron of Braikly is dead and awa.
He 's landed at Braikly's yates at the day dawing.
Says, Baron of Braikly, are ye within?
There 's sharp swords at the yate will gar your blood spin.
The lady raise up, to the window she went;
She heard her kye lowing oer hill and oer bent.
‘O rise up, John,’ she says, ‘turn back your kye;
They 're oer the hills rinning, they 're skipping away.’
‘Come to your bed, Peggie, and let the kye rin,
For were I to gang out, I would never get in.’
Then she 's cry'd on her women, they quickly came ben:
‘Take up your rocks, Iassies, and fight a' like men.
‘Though I 'm but a woman, to head you I 'll try,
Nor let these vile Highland-men steal a' our kye.’
Then up gat the baron, and cry'd for his graith;
Says, Lady, I 'll gang, tho to leave you I 'm laith.
‘Come, kiss me, my Peggie, nor think I 'm to blame;
For I may well gang out, but I 'll never win in.’
When the Baron of Braikly rade through the close,
A gallanter baron neer mounted a horse.
Tho there came wi Inverey thirty and three,
There was nane wi bonny Braikly but his brother and he.
Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw;
But against four and thirty, wae 's me, what was twa?
Wi swords and wi daggers they did him surround,
And they 've pierc'd bonny Braikly wi mony a wound.
Frae the head of the Dee to the banks of the Spey,
The Gordons may mourn him, and bann Inverey.
‘O came ye by Braikly, and was ye in there?
Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?’
‘O I came by Braikly, and I was in there,
But I saw not his Peggy dear riving her hair.’
‘O fye on ye, lady! how could ye do sae?
You opend your yate to the faus Inverey.’
She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him in;
She welcomd the villain that slew her baron.
She kept him till morning, syne bad him be gane,
And showd him the road that he woud na be tane.
‘Thro Birss and Aboyne,’ she says, ‘Iyin in a tour,
Oer the hills of Glentanor you 'll skip in an hour.’
There is grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha,
But the Baron of Braikly is dead and awa.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.