Fair Margaret of Craignargat, or, The indulgent mother and disobedient daughter/Fair Margaret of Craignargat

Fair Margaret of Craignargat.

F A I R Margaret of Craignargat,
was the flower of a' her kin,
And ſhe has fallen in love, with a falſe
young man, her ruin to begin.

The more ſhe lov’d, the more it prov'd
her fatal deſtiny:
And he that ſought her overthrow,
ſhar’d of her miſery.

Before that Lady ſhe was born,
her Mother as we find,
She dream'd ſhe had a fair Daughter,
that was both dumb and blind.

But as ſhe ſat in her bow'r door,
a viewing of her charms,
There came a raven from the ſouth,
and pluck'd her from her arms.

Three times on end ſhe dream'd this dream,
which troubled ſore her mind,
That from that very night and hour,
ſhe could no comfort find.

Now ſhe has ſent for a wiſe woman,
liv'd nigh unto the Port,
Who being call'd, inſtantly came
that Lady to comfort.

To her ſhe told her dreary dream,
with ſalt tears in her eye,
Hoping that ſhe would read the ſame,
her mind to ſatisfy.

Set not your truſt in children young,
whate'er their fortune be,
And if I tell what ſhall befal,
lay not the blame on me.

The Raven which you dreamed of,
he is a falſe young man.
With ſubtile heart and flatt'ring tongue,
your Daughter to trapan.

Both night and day. to you I pray,
for to be on your guard,
For many are the ſubtile wyles,
by which youth are enſnar'd.

When ſhe had read the dreary dream,
it vex'd her more and more,
For Craignargat of birth and ſtate,
liv'd nigh unto the ſhore.

But as in age her Daughter wax'd,
her beauty did excel
All the Ladies far and near,
that in the land did dwell.

The Gordon, Hey, and brave Agnew,
three Knights of high degree,
Unto the Lady a courting came,
all for her fair beauty.

Which of theſe men they aſk'd her then,
that ſhould her husband be!
But ſcornfully ſhe did reply,
I'll wed none of the three.

Since it is ſo, where ſhall we go
a match for thee to find?
That is ſo fair and beautiful
that none can ſuit thy mind.

With ſcorn and pride ſhe anſwer made;
you'll ne'er chooſe one for me,
Nor will I wed againſt my mind,
for all their high degree.

The brave Agnew whoſe heart was true,
a ſolemn vow did make,
Never to love a woman more,
all for that Lady's ſake.

Which griev'd her tender parents dear,
to judgement ſhe was blind;
To counſel this Lady was deaf,
and troubled ſore their mind.

From the Iſle of Man a Courter came,
and a falſe young man was he
With ſubtile heart and flattering tongue,
to court that fair Lady.

This young man was a bold out-law,
a robber and a thief,
But ſoon he gain'd that Lady's heart,
which cauſed all that grief.

O will you wed, her Mother ſaid,
a man you do not know,
For to break your Parent's heart,
with ſorrow, grief, and woe!

Yes, I will go with him, ſhe ſaid,
either by land or ſea,
For he's the man I've pitched on
my husband for to be.

O let her go, her father ſaid,
for ſhe ſhall have her will;
My Curſe and Malliſon ſhe's get,
for to purſue her ſtill.

Your Curſe, Father, I don't regard,
your Bleſſing I'll ne'er crave;
To the man I love I'll faithful prove,
and never him deceive.

On board with him fair Marg'ret's gone,
in hopes his bride to be:
But mark you well and I ſhall tell,
of their ſad deſtiny.

They had not ſail'd a league but five,
till the ſtorm began to riſe;
The ſwelling ſeas ran mountains high,
and diſmal were the ſkies.

In deep deſpair, that Lady fair,
for help aloud ſhe cries,
Whilſt cryſtal tears like fountains ran
down from her lovely eyes.

Oh! I have got my Father's Curſe,
my pride for to ſubdue;
With ſorrows great my heart will break,
alas! what ſhall I do?

O were I at my Father's houſe,
his Bleſſing to receive,
Then on my bended knees I'd fall,
his pardon for to crave.

To aid my grief, there's no relief;
to ſpeak it is in vain;
Likewiſe my loving Parents dear,
I ne'er ſhall ſee again.

The winds and waves did both conſpire,
their lives for to devour,
That gallant ſhip that night was loſt,
and never was ſeen more.

When tidings to Craignargat came,
of their ſad overthrow,
It grieved her tender Parents' heart,
afreſh began their woe.

Of the dreary dream that ſhe had ſeen,
and often thought upon:
O fatal news her Mother cries,
my darling ſhe is gone.

O fair Marg'ret I little thought,
the ſeas would be thy grave,
When firſt thou left thy Father's houſe,
without thy Parents’ leave.

May this tragedy a warning be,
to children while they live,
That they may love their parents dear,
their bleſſings to receive.