Sacred Texts Legends & Sagas England Index Previous Next
16A.1 IT is talked the warld all over,
Refrain: The brume blooms bonnie and says it is fair
That the king’s dochter gaes wi child to her brither.
Refrain: And we’ll never gang doun to the brume onie mair
16A.2 He’s taen his sister doun to her father’s deer park,
Wi his yew-tree bow and arrows fast slung to his back.
16A.3 ‘Now when that ye hear me gie a loud cry,
Shoot frae thy bow an arrow and there let me lye.
16A.4 ‘And when that ye see I am lying dead,
Then ye’ll put me in a grave, wi a turf at my head.’
16A.5 Now when he heard her gie a loud cry,
His silver arrow frae his bow he suddenly let fly.
Refrain: Now they’ll never, etc.
16A.6 He has made a grave that was lang and was deep,
And he has buried his sister, wi her babe at her feet.
Refrain: And they’ll never, etc.
16A.7 And when he came to his father’s court hall,
There was music and minstrels and dancing and all.
Refrain: But they’ll never, etc.
16A.8 ‘O Willie, O Willie, what makes thee in pain?’
‘I have lost a sheath and knife that I’ll never see again.’
Refrain: For we’ll never, etc.
16A.9 ‘There is ships o your father’s sailing on the sea
That will bring as good a sheath and a knife unto thee.’
16A.10 ‘There is ships o my father’s sailing on the sea,
But sic a sheath and a knife they can never bring to me.’
16A.10r Now we’ll never, etc.
16B.1 AE lady has whispered the other,
Refrain: The broom grows bonnie, the broom grows fair
Lady Margaret’s wi bairn to Sir Richard, her brother.
Refrain: And we daur na gae doun to the broom nae mair
* * * * *
16B.2 ‘And when ye hear me loud, loud cry,
O bend your bow, let your arrow fly.
Refrain: And I daur na, etc.
16B.3 ‘But when ye see me lying still,
O then you may come and greet your fill.’
* * * * *
16B.4 ‘It’s I hae broken my little pen-knife
That I loed dearer than my life.’
Refrain: And I daur na, etc.
* * * * *
16B.5 ‘It’s no for the knife that my tears doun run,
But it’s a’ for the case that my knife was kept in.’
16C.1 IT’S whispered in parlour, it’s whispered in ha,
Refrain: The broom blooms bonie, the broom blooms fair
Lady Marget’s wi child amang our ladies a’.
Refrain: And she dare na gae down to the broom nae mair
16C.2 One day whisperd unto another
Lady Marget’s wi child to Sir Richard, her brother.
* * * * *
16C.3 ‘O when that you hear my loud loud cry,
Then bend your bow and let your arrows fly.
Refrain: For I dare na,’ etc.
16D.1 AE king’s dochter said to anither,
Refrain: Broom blooms bonnie an grows sae fair
We’ll gae ride like sister and brither.
Refrain: But we’ll never gae down to the broom nae mair
16[E].1 One king’s daughter said to anither,
Refrain: Brume blumes bonnie and grows sae fair
16[E.1] ‘We’ll gae ride like sister and brither.’
Refrain: And we’ll neer gae down to the brume nae mair
16[E.2] ‘We’ll ride doun into yonder valley,
Whare the greene green trees are budding sae gaily.
16[E.3] ‘Wi hawke and hounde we will hunt sae rarely,
And we’ll come back in the morning early.’
16[E.4] They rade on like sister and brither,
And they hunted and hawket in the valley the-gether.
16[E.5] ‘Now, lady, hauld my horse and my hawk,
For I maun na ride, and I downa walk.
16[E.6] ‘But set me doun be the rute o this tree,
For there hae I dreamt that my bed sall be.’
16[E.7] The ae king’s dochter did lift doun the ither,
And she was licht in her armis like ony fether.
16[E.8] Bonnie Lady Ann sat doun be the tree,
And a wide grave was houkit whare nane suld be.
16[E.9] The hawk had nae lure, and the horse had nae master,
And the faithless hounds thro the woods ran faster.
16[E.10] The one king’s dochter has ridden awa,
But bonnie Lady Ann lay in the deed-thraw.
16[F].1 ‘There is a feast in your father’s house,
Refrain: The broom blooms bonnie, and so is it fair
16[F.1] It becomes you and me to be very douce.’
Refrain: And we’ll never gang up to the broom nae mair
16[F.2] ‘Will you to to yon hill so hie,
Take your bow and your arrow wi thee.’
16[F.3] He’s tane his lady on his back,
And his auld son in his coat-lap.
16[F.4] ‘When ye hear me give a cry,
Ye’ll shoot your bow and let me ly.
16[F.5] ‘When ye see me lying still,
Throw awa your bow and come running me till.’
16[F.6] When he heard her gie a cry,
He shot his bow and he let her lye.
16[F.7] When he saw she was lying still,
He threw awa his bow and came running her till.
16[F.8] It was nae wonder his heart was sad,
When he shot his auld son at her head.
16[F.9] He howkit a grave lang, large and wide,
He buried his auld son down by her side.
16[F.10] It was nae wonder his heart was sair,
When he shooled the mools on her yellow hair.
16[F.11] ‘Oh,’ said his father, ’Son, but thou’rt sad,
At our braw meeting you micht be glad.’
16[F.12] ‘Oh,’ said he, ’Father, I’ve lost my knife,
I loved as dear almost as my own life.
16[F.13] ‘But I have lost a far better thing,
I lost the sheathe that the knife was in.’
16[F.14] ‘Hold thy tongue and mak nae din,
I’ll buy thee a sheath and a knife therein.’
16[F.15] ‘A’ the ships ere sailed the sea
Neer’ll bring such a sheathe and knife to me.
16[F.16] ‘A’ the smiths that lives on land
Will neer bring such a sheath and knife to my hand.’