Classic Poem

Lord Erlinton had ae daughter,
I trow he 's weird her a grit sin;
For he has bugn a bigly bower,
An a' to pit his ae daughter in.
An he has buggin, etc.

An he has warn her sisters six,
Her sisters six an her brethren se'en,
Thei 'r either to watch her a' the night.
Or than to gang i the mornin soon.

She had na been i that bigly bower
Not ae night but only ane
Untill that Willie, her true-love,
Chappit at the bower-door, no at the gin.

‘Whae 's this, whae 's this chaps at my bower-door,
At my bower-door, no at the gin?’
‘O it is Willie, thy ain true-love;
O will ye rise an let me in?’

‘In my bower, Willie, there is a wane,
An in the wane there is a wake;
But I will come to the green woods
The morn, for my ain true-love's sake.

This lady she 's lain down again,
An she has lain till the cock crew thrice;
She said unto her sisters baith,
Lasses, it 's time at we soud rise.

She 's putten on her breast a silver tee,
An on her back a silken gown;
She 's taen a sister in ilka hand,
An away to the bonnie green wood she 's gane.

They hadna gane a mile in that bonnie green wood,
They had na gane a mile but only ane,
Till they met wi Willie, her ain true-love,
An thrae her sisters he has her taen.

He 's taen her sisters ilk by the hand,
He 's kissd them baith, an he 's sent them hame;
He 's muntit his ladie him high behind,
An thro the bonnie green wood thei 'r gane.

They 'd ridden a mile i that bonnie green wood,
They hadna ridden but only ane,
When there cam fifteen o the baldest knights
That ever boor flesh, bluid an bane.

Than up bespak the foremost knight,
He woor the gray hair on his chin;
‘Yield me yer life or your lady fair,
An ye sal walk the green woods within.’

‘For to gie my wife to thee,
I wad be very laith,’ said he;
‘For than the folk wad think I was gane mad,
Or that the senses war taen frae me.’

Up than bespak the niest foremost knight,
I trow he spak right boustrouslie;
‘Yield me yer life or your ladie fair,
An ye sall walk the green woods wi me.’

‘My wife, she is my warld's meed,
My life, it lyes me very near;
But if ye be man o your manhood
I serve will while my days are near.’

He 's luppen off his milk-white steed,
He 's gien his lady him by the head:
‘See that ye never change yer cheer
Till ance ye see my body bleed.’

An he 's killd a' the fifteen knights,
He 's killed them a' but only ane;
A' but the auld grey-headed knight,
He bade him carry the tiddins hame.

He 's gane to his lady again,
I trow he 's kissd her, baith cheek an chin;
‘Now ye 'r my ain, I have ye win,
An we will walk the green woods within.’