"Ye paid me weil my hire, lady;
Ye paid me weil my fee;

But now I'm Edom o' Gordon's man,
Maun either do or die."

O than1 bespake her little son,
Sate on the nourice'2 knee,
Says, "Mither dear, gi owre3 this house,
For the reek it smithers me."

"I wad gie a' ny gowd, my child,
Sae wad I a' my fee,1

For ane blast o' the westlin wind,
To blaw the reek frae thee."

O then bespake her dochter dear,
She was baith jimp and sma:

"O row me in a pair o' sheets,
And tow me owre the wa."

They rowd her in a pair o' sheets,
And towd her owre the wa;
But on the point of Gordon's spear
She gat a deadly fa.

O bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,
And cherry were her cheeks,

And clear, clear was her yellow hair,
Whereon the reid1 bluid dreips."

Then wi' his spear he turnd her owre;
Oh gin3 her face was wan!
He sayd, "Ye are the first that e'er
I wished alive again."

He turnd her owre and owre again;
O gin her skin was white!
"I might ha spared that bonnie face,
To hae been sum man's delight.

66

Busk and boun, my merry men a',
For ill dooms I do guess;

I cannae luik in that bonny face,
As it lies on the grass.

"Thame luiks to frets, my master dear,

Then frets will follow thame;

Let it n'er be said brave Edom o' Gordon

Was daunted by a dame."

1 [Red.]

"[Drip.]

3[But: as we say, Oh, but it 's cold!]

But when the lady see the fire

Cum flaming owre her head,

She wept and kissed her children twain, Said, "Bairns, we been but dead."

The Gordon then his bugle blew,
And said, "Awa', awa';

This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame,

I hauld it time to ga'.'

O then he spied her ain dear lord,
As he cam owre the lea;

He seed his castle all in blaze

Sa far as he could see.

Then sair. O sair his mind misgave,
And all his hart was wae;
“Put on, put on, my wighty men
So fast as ye can gae.

Put on, put on, my wighty men,
So fast as ye can dree;

For he that is hindmost of the thrang,
Sall ne'er get guid o' me."

Than sum they rade, and sum they rin,
Fou fast out-owr the bent;
But e'er the foremost could get up,

Baith lady and babes were brent.

He wrang his hands, he rent his hair, And wept in teenefu'1 muid :

"O traitors, for this cruel deed

Ye sall weep tears o' bluid."

1[Sorrowful.]

And after the Gordon he is gane,

Sa fast as he might dree;

And soon i' the Gordon's foul heart's bluid,

He's wroken1 his dear ladie.

Edom o' Gordon was printed at Glasgow, by Robert and Andrew Foulis, 1755, 8vo (twelve pages). We are indebted for its publication (with many other valuable things in these volumes) to Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., who gave it as it was preserved in the memory of a lady.

The reader will here find it improved, and enlarged with several fine stanzas, recovered from a fragment of the same ballad, in the Editor's folio MS. It is remarkable that the latter is entitled Captain Adam Carre, and is in the English idiom. But whether the author was English or Scotch, the difference originally was not great. The English ballads are generally of the north of England, the Scottish are of the south of Scotland; and of consequence the country of ballad-singers was sometimes subject to one crown, and sometimes to the other, and most frequently to neither. Most of the finest old Scotch songs have the scene laid within twenty miles of England; which is indeed all poetic ground, green hills, remains of woods, clear brooks. The pastoral scenes remain: of the rude chivalry of former ages, happily nothing remains but the ruins of the castles, where the more daring and successful robbers resided. The house or castle of the RODES, stood about a measured mile 1[Revenged.]