The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 1/Chapter 2

MY plaid awa, my plaid awa, And ore the hill and far awa, And far awa to Norrowa, My plaid shall not be blown awa.

The elphin knight sits on yon hill, Ba, ba, ba, lilli ba He blaws his horn both lowd and shril. The wind hath blown my plaid awa

He blowes it east, he blowes it west, He blowes it where he lyketh best.

"I wish that horn were in my kist, Yea, and the knight in my armes two."

She had no sooner these words said, When that the knight came to her bed.

"Thou art over young a maid," quoth he, "Married with me thou il wouldst be."

"I have a sister younger than I, And she was married yesterday."

"Married with me if thou wouldst be, A courtesie thou must do to me.

"For thou must shape a sark to me, Without any cut or heme," quoth he.

"Thou must shape it knife-and-sheerlesse, And also sue it needle-threedlesse."

"If that piece of courtesie I do to thee, Another thou must do to me.

"I have an aiker of good ley-land, Which lyeth low by yon sea-strand.

"For thou must eare it with thy horn, So thou must sow it with thy corn.

"And bigg a cart of stone and lyme, Robin Redbreast he must trail it hame.

"Thou must barn it in a mouse-holl, And thrash it into thy shoes soll.

thou must winnow it in thy looff, And also seck it in thy glove.

"For thou must bring it over the sea, And thou must bring it dry home to me.

en thou hast gotten thy turns well done, Then come to me and get thy sark then."

"I'l not quite my plaid for my life; It haps my seven bairns and my wife." The wind shall not blow my plaid awa

"My maidenhead I'l then keep still, Let the elphin knight do what he will." The wind's not blown my plaid awa

MY plaid awa, my plaid awa, And owre the hills and far awa, And far awa to Norrowa, My plaid shall not be blawn awa.

The Elphin knight sits on yon hill, Ba, ba, ba, lillie ba He blaws his horn baith loud and shrill. The wind hath blawn my plaid awa

He blaws it east, he blaws it west, He blaws it where he liketh best.

"I wish that horn were in my kist, Yea, and the knight in my arms niest."

She had no sooner these words said, Than the knight came to her bed.

"Thou art oer young a maid," quoth he, "Married with me that thou wouldst be."

"I have a sister, younger than I, and she was married yesterday."

"Married with me if thou wouldst be, A curtisie thou must do to me.

"It's ye maun mak a sark to me, Without any cut or seam," quoth he.

"And ye maun shape it, knife-, sheerless, And also sew it needle-, threedless."

"If that piece of courtisie I do to thee, Another thou must do to me.

"I have an aiker of good ley land, Which lyeth low by yon sea strand.

"It's ye maun till't wi your touting horn, And ye maun saw't wi the pepper corn.

"And ye maun harrow't wi a thorn, And hae your wark done ere the morn.

"And ye maun shear it wi your knife, And no lose a stack o't for your life.

"And ye maun stack it in a mouse hole, And ye maun thrash it in your shoe sole.

"And ye maun dight it in your loof, And also sack it in your glove.

"And thou must bring it over the sea, Fair and clean and dry to me.

"And when that ye have done your wark, Come back to me, and ye'll get your sark."

"I'll not quite my plaid for my life; It haps my seven bairns and my wife."

"My maidenhead I'll then keep still, Let the elphin knight do what he will.

THERE stands a knicht at the tap o yon hill, Oure the hills and far awa He has blawn his horn loud and shill. The cauld wind's blawn my plaid awa

"If I had the horn that I hear blawn, And the knicht that blaws that horn!"

She had na sooner thae words said, Than the elfin knicht cam to her side.

"Are na ye oure young a may Wi onie young man doun to lie?"

"I have a sister younger than I, And she was married yesterday."

"Married wi me ye sall neer be nane Till ye mak to me a sark but a seam.

"And ye maun shape it knife-,sheer-less, And ye maun sew it needle-, threed-less.

"And ye maun wash it in yon cistran, Whare water never stood nor ran.

"And ye maun dry it on yon hawthorn, Whare the sun neer shon sin man was born."

"Gin that courtesie I do for thee, Ye maun do this for me.

"Ye'll get an acre o gude red-land Atween the saut sea and the sand.

"I want that land for to be corn, And ye maun aer it wi your horn.

"And ye maun saw it without a seed, And ye maun harrow it wi a threed.

"And ye maun shear it wi your knife, And na tyne a pickle o't for your life.

"And ye maun moue it in yon mouse-hole And ye maun thrash it in your shoe-sole.

"And ye maun fan it wi your luves, And ye maun sack it in your gloves.

"And ye maun bring it oure the sea, Fair and clean and dry to me.

"And whan that your wark is weill deen, Yese get your sark without a seam."

THE Elfin knight stands on yon hill, Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw Blawing his horn loud and shrill. And the wind has blawin my plaid awa

"If I had yon horn in my kist, And the bonny laddie here that I luve best!

"I hae a sister eleven years auld, And she to the young men's bed has made bauld.

"And I mysell am only nine, And oh! sae fain, luve, as I woud be thine."

"Ye maun make me a fine Holland sark, Without ony stitching or needle wark.

"And ye maun wash it in yonder well, Where the dew never wat, nor the rain ever fell.

"And ye maun dry it upon a thorn That never budded sin Adam was born."

"Now sin ye've askd some things o me, It's right I ask as mony o thee.

"My father he askd me an acre o land, Between the saut sea and the strand.

"And ye maun plow't wi your blawing horn, And ye maun saw't wi pepper corn.

And ye maun harrow't wi a single tyne, And ye maun shear't wi a sheep's shank bane.

"And ye maun big it in the sea, And bring the stathle dry to me.

"And ye maun barn 't in yon mouse hole, And ye maun thrash't in your shee sole.

"And ye maun sack it in your gluve, And ye maun winno't in your leuve.

"And ye maun dry't without candle or coal, And grind it without quirn or mill.

"Ye'll big a cart o stane and lime, Gar Robin Redbreast trail it syne.

"When ye've dune, and finishd your wark, Ye'll come to me, luve, and get your sark."

THE Elfin Knight sits on yon hill, Ba ba lilly ba Blowing his horn loud and shill. And the wind has blawn my plaid awa

"I love to hear that horn blaw; I wish him [here] owns it and a'."

That word it was no sooner spoken, Than Elfin Knight in her arms was gotten.

"You must mak to me a sark, Without threed, sheers or needle wark."

"DID ye ever travel twixt Berwick and Lyne? Sober and grave grows merry in time There ye'll meet wi a handsome young dame,  Ance she was a true love o mine.

"Tell her to sew me a holland sark, And sew it all without needle-wark: And syne we'll be true lovers again.

"Tell her to wash it at yon spring-well, Where neer wind blew, nor yet rain fell.

"Tell her to dry it on yon hawthorn, That neer sprang up sin Adam was born.

"Tell her to iron it wi a hot iron, And plait it a' in ae plait round."

"Did ye ever travel twixt Berwick and Lyne? There ye'll meet wi a handsome young man, Ance he was a true lover o mine.

"Tell him to plough me an acre o land Betwixt the sea-side bot and the sea-sand, And syne we'll be true lovers again.

"Tell him to saw it wi ae peck o corn, And harrow it a' wi ae harrow tine.

"Tell him to shear it wi ae hook-tooth, And carry it hame just into his loof.

"Tell him to stack it in yon mouse-hole, And thrash it a' just wi his shoe-sole.

"Tell him to dry it on yon ribless kiln, And grind it a' in yon waterless miln.

Tell this young man, whan he's finished his wark, He may come to me, and hese get his sark."

"CAN you make me a cambrick shirt, Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Without any seam or needle work?  And you shall be a true lover of mine

"Can you wash it in yonder well, Where never sprung water nor rain ever fell?

"Can you dry it on yonder thorn, Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?

"Now you have askd me questions three, I hope you'll answer as many for me.

"Can you find me an acre of land Between the salt water and the sea sand?

"Can you plow it with a ram's horn, And sow it all over with one pepper corn?

"Can you reap it with a sickle of leather, And bind it up with a peacock's feather?

"When you have done, and finishd your work, Then come to me for your cambrick shirt."

"COME, pretty Nelly, and sit thee down by me, Every rose grows merry wi thyme And I will ask thee questions three,  And then thou wilt be a true lover of mine.

"Thou must buy me a cambrick smock Without any stitch of needlework.

"Thou must wash it in yonder strand, Where wood never grew and water neer ran.

"Thou must dry it on yonder thorn, Where the sun never shined on since Adam was formed."

"Thou hast asked me questions three; Sit down till I ask as many of thee.

"Thou must buy me an acre of land Betwixt the salt water, love, and the sea-sand.

"Thou must plow it wi a ram's horn, And sow it all over wi one pile o corn.

"Thou must shear it wi a strap o leather, And tie it all up in a peacock feather.

"Thou must stack it in the sea, And bring the stale o't hame dry to me.

"When my love's done, and finished his work, Let him come to me for his cambric smock."

A LADY wonned on yonder hill, Hee ba and balou ba And she had musick at her will. And the wind has blown my plaid awa

Up and cam an auld, auld man, Wi his blue bonnet in his han.

"I will ask ye questions three; Resolve them, or ye'll gang wi me.

"Ye maun mak to me a sark, It maun be free o woman's wark.

"Ye maun shape it knife- sheerless, And ye maun sew it needle- threedless.

"Ye maun wash it in yonder well, Whare rain nor dew has ever fell.

"Ye maun dry it on yonder thorn, Where leaf neer grew since man was born."

"I will ask ye questions three; Resolve them, or ye'll neer get me.

"I hae a rig o bonnie land Atween the saut sea and the sand.

"Ye maun plow it wi ae horse bane, And harrow it wi ae harrow pin.

"Ye maun shear't wi a whang o leather, And ye maun bind 't bot strap or tether.

"Ye maun stack it in the sea, And bring the stale hame dry to me.

"Ye maun mak a cart o stane, And yoke the wren and bring it hame.

"Ye maun thresh't atween your lufes, And ye maun sack't atween your thies."

"My curse on those wha learn d thee; This night I weend ye'd gane wi me."

NOW you are a-going to Cape Ann, Follomingkathellomeday Remember me to the self-same man. Ummatiddle, ummatiddle, ummatallyho, tallyho, follomingkathellomeday

Tell him to buy me an acre of land Between the salt-water and the sea-sand.

Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn, Tell him to sow it with one peppercorn.

Tell him to reap it with a penknife, And tell him to cart it with two mice.

Tell him to cart it to yonder new barn That never was built since Adam was born.

Tell him to thrash it with a goose quill, Tell him to fan it with an egg-shell.

Tell the fool, when he's done his work, To come to me, and he shall have his shirt.

MY father left me three acres of land, Sing ivy, sing ivy My father left me three acres of land. Sing holly, go whistle and ivy

I ploughed it with a ram's horn, And sowed it all over with one pepper corn.

I harrowed it with a bramble bush, And reaped it with my little penknife.

I got the mice to carry it to the barn, And thrashed it with a goose's quill.

I got the cat to carry it to the mill; The miller he swore he would have her paw, And the cat she swore she would scratch his face.

MY father gave me an acre of land, Sing ivy, sing ivy My father gave me an acre of land. Sing green bush, holly and ivy

I ploughd it with a ram's horn.

I harrowd it with a bramble.

I sowd it with a pepper corn.

I reapd it with my penknife.

I carried it to the mill upon the cat's back. * * * * * I made a cake for all the king's men.

As I went up to the top o yon hill, Every rose springs merry in' t' time I met a fair maid, an her name it was Nell. An she langed to be a true lover o mine

"Ye'll get to me a cambric sark, An sew it all over without thread or needle. Before that ye be, etc.

'll wash it doun in yonder well, Where water neer ran an dew never fell.

"Ye'll bleach it doun by yonder green, Where grass never grew an wind never blew.

"Ye'll dry it doun on yonder thorn, That never bore blossom sin Adam was born."

"Four questions ye have asked at me, An as mony mair ye'll answer me.

"Ye'll get to me an acre o land Atween the saut water an the sea sand.

"Ye'll plow it wi a ram's horn, An sow it all over wi one peppercorn.

"Ye'll shear it wi a peacock's feather, An bind it all up wi the sting o an adder.

"Ye'll stook it in yonder saut sea, An bring the dry sheaves a' back to me.

"An when ye've done and finished your wark, Ye'll come to me, an ye'se get your sark."

An then shall ye be true lover o mine