The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 7/Chapter 222

O Baby Livingston Went forth to view the hay, And by it came him Glenlion, Sta bonny Baby away. O first he's taen her silken coat, And neest her satten gown, Syne rowd her in a tartan plaid, And hapd her round and rown. He has set her upon his steed And roundly rode away, And neer loot her look back again The live-long summer's day. He's carried her oer hills and muirs Till they came to a Highland glen, And there he's met his brother John, With twenty armed men. O there were cows, and there were ewes, And lasses milking there, But Baby neer anse lookd about, Her heart was filld wi care. Glenlion took her in his arms, And kissd her, cheek and chin; Says, I'd gie a' these cows and ewes But ae kind look to win. 'O ae kind look ye neer shall get, Nor win a smile frae me, Unless to me you'll favour shew, And take me to Dundee.' 'Dundee, Baby? Dundee, Baby? Dundee you neer shall see Till I've carried you to Glenlion And have my bride made thee. 'We'll stay a while at Auchingour, And get sweet milk and cheese, And syne we'll gang to Glenlion, And there live at our ease.' 'I winna stay at Auchingour, Nor eat sweet milk and cheese, Nor go with thee to Glenlion, For there I'll neer find ease.' Than out it spake his brother John, 'O were I in your place, I'd take that lady hame again, For a' her bonny face. 'Commend me to the lass that's kind, Tho na so gently born; And, gin her heart I coudna gain, To take her hand I'd scorn.' 'O had your tongue now, John,' he says, 'You wis na what you say; 'For I've lood that bonny face This twelve month and a day. 'And tho I've lood her lang and sair A smile I neer coud win; Yet what I've got anse in my power To keep I think nae sin.' When they came to Glenlion castle, They lighted at the yate, And out it came his sisters three, Wha did them kindly greet. O they've taen Baby by the hands And led her oer the green, And ilka lady spake a word, But bonny Baby spake nane. Then out it spake her bonny Jean, The youngest o the three, 'O lady, dinna look sae sad, But tell your grief to me.' 'O wherefore should I tell my grief, Since lax I canna find? I'm stown frae a' my kin and friends, And my love I left behind. 'But had I paper, pen, and ink, Before that it were day, I yet might get a letter sent In time to Johny Hay.' O she's got paper, pen, and ink, And candle that she might see, And she has written a broad letter To Johny at Dundee. And she has gotten a bonny boy, That was baith swift and strang, Wi philabeg and bonnet blue, Her errand for to gang. 'O boy, gin ye'd my blessing win And help me in my need, Run wi this letter to my love, And bid him come wi speed. 'And here's a chain of good red gowd, And gowdn guineas three, And when you've well your errand done, You'll get them for your fee.' The boy he ran oer hill and dale, Fast as a bird coud flee, And eer the sun was twa hours height The boy was at Dundee. And when he came to Johny's door He knocked loud and sair; Then Johny to the window came, And loudly cry'd, 'Wha's there?' 'O here's a letter I have brought, Which ye maun quickly read, And, gin ye woud your lady save, Gang back wi me wi speed.' O when he had the letter read, An angry man was he; He says, Glenlion, thou shalt rue This deed of villany! 'O saddle to me the black, the black, O saddle to me the brown, O saddle to me the swiftest steed That eer rade frae the town. 'And arm ye well, my merry men a', And follow me to the glen, For I vow I'll neither eat nor sleep Till I get my love again.' He's mounted on a milk-white steed, The boy upon a gray, And they got to Glenlion's castle About the close of day. As Baby at her window stood, The west wind saft did bla; She heard her Johny's well-kent voice, Beneath the castle wa. 'O Baby, haste, the window jump! I'll kep you in my arm; My merry men a' are at the yate, To rescue you frae harm.' She to the window fixt her sheets And slipped safely down, And Johny catchd her in his arms, Neer loot her touch the ground. When mounted on her Johny's horse, Fou blithely did she say, 'Glenlion, you hae lost your bride! She's aff wi Johny Hay.' Glenlion and his brother John Were birling in the ha, When they heard Johny's bridle ring, As first he rade awa. 'Rise, Jock, gang out and meet the priest, I hear his bridle ring; My Baby now shall be my wife Before the laverocks sing.' 'O brother, this is not the priest; I fear he'll come oer late; For armed men with shining brands Stand at the castle-yate.' 'Haste Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh! Haste, take your sword and spier! We'll gar these traytors rue the hour That eer they ventured here.' The Highland men drew their claymores, And gae a warlike shout, But Johny's merry men kept the yate, Nae ane durst venture out. The lovers rade the live-lang night, And safe gat on their way, And bonny Baby Livingston Has gotten Johny Hay. 'Awa, Glenlion! fy for shame! Gae hide ye in some den! You've lettn your bride be stown frae you, For a' your armed men.'

Barbara Livingston Went out to take the air, When came the laird o Glenlyon And staw the maiden fair. He staw her in her cloak, her cloak, He staw her in her gown; Before he let her look again, Was mony mile frae town. So they rade over hills and dales, Through m[o]ny a wilsome way, Till they came to the head o yon hill, And showed her ewes and kye. 'O will ye stay with me, Barbara, And get good curds and whey? Or will ye go to Glenlyon, And be a lady gay?' 'The Highlands is nae for me, kind sir, The Highlands is nae for me, But, gin ye woud my favour win, Have me to bonny Dundee.' 'Dundee, Barbara? Dundee, Barbara? That town ye'se never see; I'll hae you to a finer place Than eer was in Dundee.' But when she came to Glenlyon, And lighted on the green, Every lady spake Earse to her, But Barbara could speak nane. When they were all at dinner set, And placed the table round, Every one took some of it, But Barbara took nane. She put it to her cheek, her cheek, She put it to her chin, She put it to her rosey lips, But neer a bit gaed in. When day was gone, and night was come, And a' man bound for bed, Glenlyon and that fair lady To one chamber were laid. 'O strip, O strip, my love,' he said, 'O strip and lay you down;' 'How can I strip? How can I strip, To bed wi an unco man?' He's taen out his little pen-knife, And he slit down her gown, And cut her stays behind her back, And forc'd her to lie down. 'O day, dear sir! O day, dear sir! O dear! if it were day, And me upon my father's steed, I soon shoud ride away.' 'Your father's steed is in my stable, Eating good corn and hay, And ye are in my arms twa; What needs you lang for day?' 'If I had paper, pens, and ink, And light that I may see, I woud write a broad, broad letter To my love in Dundee.' They brought her paper, pen, and ink, And light that she might see, And she has written a broad letter To her love in Dundee. And aye she wrote, and aye she grat, The saut tear blinded her ee; And aye at every verse's end, 'Haste, my bonny love, to me!' 'If I had but a little wee boy, Would work for meat and fee, Would go and carry this letter To my love in Dundee!' 'O here am I, a little wee boy Will work for meat and fee, Will go and carry that letter To your love in Dundee.' Upstarts the morn, the boy he ran Oer mony a hill and dale, And he wan on to bonny Dundee About the hour o twall. There geordy oer a window lay, Beholding dale and down; And he beheld a little wee boy Come running to the town. 'What news? what news, my little wee boy, You run sae hastilie?' 'Your love is stown by Glenlyon, And langs your face to see.' 'Gae saddle to me the black, the black, Gae saddle to me the brown; Gae saddle to me the swiftest steed Will hae me to the town. 'Get me my hat, dyed o the black, My mourning-mantle tee, And I will on to Glenlyon, See my love ere she die.' First he tired the black, the black, And then he tired the brown, And next he tired the swiftest steed Ere he wan to the town. But for as fast as her love rade, And as fast as he ran, Before he wan to Glenlyon His love was dead and gane. Then he has kissd her cheek, her cheek, And he has kissd her chin, And he has kissd her comely mouth, But no life was therein. 'O wae mat worth you, Glenlyon, An ill death mat ye die! Ye've twind me and the fairest flower My eyes did ever see. 'But I will kiss your cheek, Barbara, And I will kiss your chin, And I will kiss your comely mouth, But neer woman's again. 'Deal well, deal well at my love's lyke The beer but and the wine, For ere the morn at this same time Ye'll deal the same at mine.'

-rr-rr ladies fair Was playing at the ba, And out cam Barbra Livingston, The flower amang them a'. Out cam Barbra Livingston, The flower amang them a'; The lusty laird o Linlyon Has stown her clean awa. 'The Hielands is no for me, kind sir, The Hielands is no for me; But, if you wud my favour win, You'll tak me to Dundee.' 'The Hielands'll be for thee, my dear, The Hielands will be for thee; To the lusty laird o Linlyon A-married ye shall be.' When they came to Linlyon's yetts, And lichted on the green, Every ane spak Earse to her, The tears cam trinkling down. When they went to bed at nicht, To Linlyon she did say, 'Och and alace, a weary nicht! Oh, but it's lang till day!' 'Your father's steed in my stable, He's eating corn and hay, And you're lying in my twa arms; What need you long for day?' 'If I had paper, pen, and ink, And candle for to see, I wud write a lang letter To my love in Dundee.' They brocht her paper, pen, and ink, And candle for to see, And she did write a lang letter To her love in Dundee. When he cam to Linlyon's yetts, And lichtit on the green, But lang or he wan up the stair His love was dead and gane. 'Woe be to thee, Linlyon, An ill death may thou die! Thou micht hae taen anither woman, And let my lady be.'

Annie Livingstone Was walking out the way, By came the laird of Glendinning, And he's stolen her away. The Highlands are no for me, kind sir, The highlands are no for me, And, if you wad my favour win, You'd take me to Dundee. He mounted her on a milk-white steed, Himself upon a grey, He's taen her to the Highland hills, And stolen her quite away. When they came to Glendinning gate, They lighted on the green; There many a Highland lord spoke free, But fair Annie she spoke nane. When bells were rung, and mass begun, And a' men bound for bed, Bonnie Annie Livingstone Was in her chamber laid. 'O gin it were but day, kind sir! O gin it were but day! O gin it were but day, kind sir, That I might win away!"] 'Your steed stands in the stall, bonnie Ann, Eating corn and hay, And you are in Glendinning's arms; What need ye long for day?' 'O fetch me paper, pen, and ink, A candle that I may see, And I will write a long letter To Jemmy at Dundee.' When Jemmie looked the letter on, A loud laughter gave he; But eer he read the letter oer The tear blinded his ee. 'Gar saddle,' he cried, 'My war-horse fierce, Warn a' my trusty clan, And I'll away to Glendinning Castle And see my sister Ann.' When he came to Glendinning yet, He lighted on the green, But ere that he wan up the stair Fair Annie she was gane. 'The Highlands were not for thee, bonnie Ann, The Highlands were not for thee, And they that would have thy favour won Should have brought you home to me. 'O I will kiss thy cherry cheeks, And I will kiss thy chin, And I will kiss thy rosy lips, For they will neer kiss mine.'

Baby Livingstone Went out to view the hay, And by there came a Hieland lord, And he's stown Baby away. He's stown her in her coat, her coat, And he's stown her in her gown, And he let her not look back again Ere she was many a mile from town. He set her on a milk-white steed, Himself upon another, And they are on to bonny Lochell, Like sister and like brother. The bells were rung, the mass was sung, And all men bound to bed, And Baby and her Hieland lord They were both in one chamber laid. 'Oh day, kind sir! Oh day, kind sir! Oh day fain would I see! I would gie a' the lands o Livingstone For day-light, to lat me see.' 'Oh day, Baby? Oh day, Baby? What needs you long for day? Your steed is in a good stable, And he's eating baith corn and hay. 'Oh day, baby? Oh day, Baby? What needs you long for day? You'r lying in a good knight's arms, What needs you long for day?' 'Ye'll get me paper, pen, and ink, And light to let me see, Till I write on a broad letter And send 't to Lord. . '.'