Classic Poem

Lord William has but ae dear son,
In this world had nae mair;
Lord Lundie had but ae daughter,
And he will hae nane but her.

They dressed up in maids' array,
And passd for sisters fair;
With ae consent gaed ower the sea,
For to seek after lear.

They baith did eat at ae braid board,
In ae bed baith did lye;
When Lord Lundie got word o that,
He 's taen her soon away.

When Lord Lundie got word of that,
An angry man was he;
He wrote his daughter on great haste
To return right speedilie.

When she looked the letter upon,
A light laugh then gae she;
But ere she read it till an end
The tear blinded her ee.

‘Bad news, bad news, my love Willie,
Bad news is come to me;
My father 's written a braid letter,
Bids me gae speedilie.

‘Set trysts, set trysts, my love Willie,
Set trysts, I pray, wi me;
Set trysts, set trysts, my love Willie,
When will our wedding be.’

‘On Wednesday, on Wednesday,
The first that ever ye see;
On Wednesday at twelve o'clock,
My dear, I 'll meet wi thee.’

When she came to her father's ha,
He hailed her courteouslie;
Says, I 'll forgie offences past,
If now ye 'll answer me.

‘Will ye marry yon young prince,
Queen of England to be?
Or will you marry Lord William's son,
Be loved by nane but he?’

‘I will marry yon young prince,
Father, if it be your will;
But I woud rather I were dead and gane,
My grave I woud win till.’

When she was in her saddle set,
She skyred like the fire,
To go her bridegroom for to meet,
For whom she 'd nae desire.

On every tippet o her horse mane
There hang a siller bell,
And whether the wind blew east or west
They gae a sundry knell.

And when she came to Mary's kirk
She skyred like the fire;
There her young bridegroom she did meet,
For whom she 'd nae desire.

She looked ower her left shoulder,
The tear blinded her ee;
But looking ower her right shoulder,
A blythe sight then saw she.

There she saw Lord William's son,
And mony a man him wi,
Wi targes braid and glittering spears
All marching ower the lee.

The minister looked on a book
Her marriage to begin:
‘If there is naething to be said,
These two may join in ane.’

‘O huly, huly, sir,’ she said,
‘O stay a little wee;
I hae a friend to welcome yet
That 's been a dear friend to me.’

O then the parson he spake out,
A wise word then spake he;
‘You might hae had your friends welcomd
Before ye 'd come to me.’

Then in it came the bride's first love,
And mony a man him wi:
‘Stand back, stand back, ye jelly bridegroom,
Bride, ye maun join wi me.’

Then out it speaks him Lord Lundie,
An angry man was he;
‘Lord William's son will hae my daughter
Without leave askd of me.

‘But since it 's sae that she will gang,
And proved sae fause to thee,
I 'll make a vow, and keep it true,
Nae portion shall I gie.’

Then out it speaks the bride's first love,
And [a] light laugh then gae he;
‘I've got the best portion now, my lord,
That ye can gie to me.

‘Your gude red gold I value not,
Nor yet your white monie;
I hae her by the hand this day
That 's far dearer to me.

‘So gie the prince a coffer o gold
When he gaes to his bed,
And bid him clap his coffer o gold,
And I 'll clap my bonny bride.’