Classic Poem

It fell about the Martinmas time,
When the wind blew snell and cauld,
That Adam o Gordon said to his men,
Where will we get a hold?

See [ye] not where yonder fair castle
Stands on yon lily lee?
The laird and I hae a deadly feud,
The lady fain would I see.

As she was up on the househead,
Behold, on looking down,
She saw Adam o Gordon and his men,
Coming riding to the town.

The dinner was not well set down,
Nor the grace was scarcely said,
Till Adam o Gordon and his men
About the walls were laid.

‘It 's fause now fa thee, Jock my man!
Thou might a let me be;
Yon man has lifted the pavement-stone,
An let in the low unto me.’

‘Seven years I served thee, fair ladie,
You gave me meat and fee;
But now I am Adam o Gordon's man,
An maun either do it or die.’

‘Come down, come down, my lady Loudoun,
Come down thou unto me!
I 'll wrap thee on a feather-bed,
Thy warrand I shall be.’

‘I 'll no come down, I 'll no come down,
For neither laird no[r] loun;
Nor yet for any bloody butcher
That lives in Altringham town.

‘I would give the black,’ she says,
‘And so would I the brown,
If that Thomas, my only son,
Could charge to me a gun.’

Out then spake the lady Margaret,
As she stood on the stair;
The fire was at her goud garters,
The lowe was at her hair.

‘I would give the black,’ she says,
‘And so would I the brown,
For a drink of yon water,
That runs by Galston Town.’

Out then spake fair Annie,
She was baith jimp and sma:
‘O row me in a pair o sheets,
And tow me down the wa!’

‘O hold thy tongue, thou fair Annie,
And let thy talkin be;
For thou must stay in this fair castle,
And bear thy death with me.’

‘O mother,’ spoke the lord Thomas,
As he sat on the nurse's knee,
‘O mother, give up this fair castle,
Or the reek will worrie me.’

‘I would rather be burnt to ashes sma,
And be cast on yon sea-foam,
Before I 'd give up this fair castle,
And my lord so far from home.

‘My good lord has an army strong,
He 's now gone oer the sea;
He bad me keep this gay castle,
As long as it would keep me.

‘I 've four-and-twenty brave milk kye,
Gangs on yon lily lee;
I 'd give them a' for a blast of wind,
To blaw the reek from me.’

O pittie on yon fair castle,
That 's built with stone and lime!
But far mair pittie on Lady Loudoun,
And all her children nine!