YOUNG HUNTING. See p. 3. From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 118. LADY MAISRY forth from her bower came, And stood on her tower head; She thought she heard a bridle ring, She thought it was her first true love, Whom she loved ance in time; But it was her new love, Hunting, Come frae the hunting o' the hyn'. "Gude morrow, gude morrow, Lady Maisry, I'm come to take my last farewell, "O stay, O stay then, young Hunting, O stay with me this night; Ye shall ha'e cheer, an' charcoal clear, And candles burning bright. "Have no more cheer, you lady fair, An hour langer for me; I have a lady in Garmouth town I love better than thee." "O if your love be changed, my love, Since better canno' be, Nevertheless, for auld lang syne, Ye'll stay this night wi' me. “Silver, silver shall be your wage, "Will ye gae to the cards or dice, Or to a tavern fine? Or will ye gae to a table forebye, And birl baith beer and wine?" "I winna gang to the cards nor dice, Nor to a tavern fine; But I will gang to a table forebye, And birl baith beer and wine." Then she has drawn for young Hunting The beer but and the wine, Till she got him as deadly drunk As ony unhallowed swine. Then she's ta'en out a trusty brand, That hang below her gare; Then she's wounded him, young Hunting, A deep wound and a sair. Then out it speaks her comrade, Being in the companie: 20 25 80 35 40 45 "Alas! this deed that ye ha'e done, Will ruin baith you and me." "Heal well, heal well, you Lady Katharine, The robes that were shapen for my bodie, "Tho' I wou'd heal it never sae well, And never sae well," said she, "There is a God above us baith, That can baith hear and see." They booted him and spurred him, A hunting-horn about his neck, And they rode on, and farther on, The deepest pot in Clyde's water, And put a turf on his breast bane, To had young Hunting down. O out it speaks a little wee bird, As she sat on the brier: “Gae hame, gae hame, ye Lady Maisry, And pay your maiden's hire." 65, And the. 66, And there. See 133, 134. |