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Tales of the Olden Time

Lord Beichan hied him down the stair,-
Of fifteen steps he made but three,
Until he came to Susie Pye,

Whom he did kiss most tenderlie.

He's ta'en her by the lily hand,
And led her to his noble hall,
Where stood his sore-bewilder'd bride,
And wedding guests assembled all.

Fair Susie blushing look'd around,
Upon the lords and ladies gay;
Then with the tear-drops in her eyes,
Unto Lord Beichan she did say:

"Oh, have ye ta'en another bride,

And broke your plighted vows to me? Then fare thee well, my Christian lord, I'll try to think no more on thee.

"But sadly I will wend my way,
And sadly I will cross the sea,
And sadly will with grief and shame

Return unto my own countrie."

"Oh, never, never, Susie Pye,

Oh, never more shall you leave me; This night you'll be my wedded wife, And lady of my lands so free."

Syne up then spake the bride's mother,

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She ne'er before did speak so free,

'You'll not forsake my dear daughter,

For sake of her from Pagandie."

"Take home, take home your daughter dear,
She's not a pin the worse of me;

She came to me on horseback riding,
But shall go back in a coach and three."

Lord Beichan got ready another wedding,
And sang, with heart brimful of glee,-
"Oh, I'll range no more in foreign lands,
Since Susie Pye has cross'd the sea."

OLD BALLAD.

The Gay Gos-hawk

"O well is me, my gay gos-hawk,
That you can speak and flee;
For you can carry a love-letter
To my true love frae me."

"O how can I carry a letter to her,
Or how should I her know?

I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spak',
And eyes that ne'er her saw."

Tales

of the Olden

Time

Tales "The white o' my love's skin is white

of the

Olden
Time

As down o' dove or maw;
The red o' my love's cheek is red

As blood that's spilt on snaw.

"When ye come to the castle,
Light on the tree of ash,

And sit you there and sing our loves
As she comes frae the mass.

"Four and twenty fair ladies
Will to the mass repair;
And weel may ye my lady ken,
The fairest lady there."

When the gos-hawk flew to that castle,

He lighted on the ash;

And there he sat and sang their loves
As she came frae the mass.

"Stay where ye be, my maidens a',

And sip red wine anon,

Till I go to my west window

And hear a birdie's moan."

She's gane unto her west window,
The bolt she fainly drew;

And unto that lady's white, white neck
The bird a letter threw.

"Ye're bidden to send your love a send,

For he has sent you twa;

And tell him where he may see you soon,

Or he cannot live ava."

"I send him the ring from my finger,
The garland off my hair,

I send him the heart that's in my breast;
What would my love have mair?

And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland,
Ye'll bid him wait for me there."

She hied her to her father dear
As fast as gang could she:
"I'm sick at the heart, my father dear;
An asking grant you me!"

"Ask me na for that Scottish lord,

For him ye'll never see!"

“An asking, an asking, dear father!" she says,

"An asking grant you me; That if I die in fair England,

In Scotland ye'll bury me.

"At the first kirk o' fair Scotland,
You cause the bells be rung;
At the second kirk o' fair Scotland,
You cause the mass be sung;

"At the third kirk o' fair Scotland,

You deal gold for my sake;

Tales

of the Olden

Time

Tales At the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland,

of the

Olden

Time

O there you'll bury me at!

"This is all my asking, father,

I pray you grant it me!" "Your asking is but small," he said;

"Weel granted it shall be.

But why do ye talk o' suchlike things?
For ye arena going to dee."

The lady's gane to her chamber,
And a moanfu' woman was she,
As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash,
And were about to dee.

The lady's gane to her chamber
As fast as she could fare;
And she has drunk a sleepy draught,
She mix'd it wi' mickle care.

She's fallen into a heavy trance,
And pale and cold was she;
She seemed to be as surely dead
As ony corpse could be.

Out and spak' an auld witch-wife,

At the fireside sat she:

"Gin she has killed herself for love,

I wot it weel may be: