Catharine Jaffery

O bonny Catharine Jaffery,
That dainty maid so fair,
Once lovd the laird of Lochinvar,
Without any compare.

Long time she lood him very well,
But they changed her mind away,
And now she goes another's bride,
And plays him foul play.

The bonny laird of Landerdale
Came from the South Countrie,
And he has wooed the pretty maid,
Thro presents entered he.

For tocher-gear he did not stand,
She was a dainty may;
He 'greed him with her friends all,
And set the wedding-day.

When Lochinvar got word of this,
He knew not what to do,
For losing of a lady fair
That he did love so true.

‘But if I were young Lochinvar,
I woud not care a fly
To take her on her wedding-day
From all her company.

‘Get ye a quiet messenger,
Send him thro all your land
For a hundred and fifty brave young lads,
To be at your command.

‘To be all at your command,
And your bidding to obey,
Yet still cause you the trumpet sound
The voice of foul play.’

He got a quiet messenger
To send thro all his land,
And full three hundred pretty lads
Were all at his command.

Were all at his command,
And his bidding did obey,
Yet still he made the trumpet sound
The voice of foul play.

Then he went to the bridal-house,
Among the nobles a',
And when he stepped upon the floor
He gave a loud huzza.

‘Huzza! huzza! you English men,
Or borderers who were born,
Neer come to Scotland for a maid,
Or else they will you scorn.

‘She 'll bring you on with tempting words,
Aye till the wedding-day,
Syne give you frogs instead of fish,
And play you foul play.’

The gentlemen all wondered
What could be in his mind,
And asked if he 'd a mind to fight;
Why spoke he so unkind?

Did he e'er see such pretty men
As were there in array?
‘O yes,’ said he, ‘a Fairy Court
Were leaping on the hay.

‘As I came in by Hyland banks,
And in by Hyland braes,
There did I see a Fairy Court,
All leaping on the leas.

‘I came not here to fight,’ he said,
‘But for good fellowship gay;
I want to drink with your bridegroom,
And then I 'll boun my way.’

The glass was filled with good red wine,
And drunk between them twae:
‘Give me one shake of your bonny bride's hand,
And then I 'll boun my way.’

He 's taen her by the milk-white hands,
And by the grass-green sleeve,
Pulld her on horseback him behind,
At her friends askd nae leave.

Syne rode the water with great speed,
And merrily the knows;
There fifty from the bridal came—
Indeed it was nae mows—

Thinking to take the bride again,
Thro strength if that they may;
But still he gart the trumpet sound
The voice of foul play.

There were four and twenty ladies fair
All walking on the lea;
He gave to them the bonny bride,
And bade them boun their way.

They splintered the spears in pieces now,
And the blades flew in the sky,
But the bonny laird of Lochinvar
Has gained the victory.

Many a wife- and widow's son
Lay gasping on the ground,
But the bonny laird of Lochinvar
He has the victory won.
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