The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 3/Chapter 82
Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 42; Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I. 162.
Jamieson, in printing this ballad, gave the husband the name Lord Randal, made many changes, and introduced several stanzas, "to fill up chasms." But the chasms, such as they are, are easily leapt by the imagination, and Jamieson's interpolations are mere bridges of carpenter's work. The admirably effective burden is taken into the story at stanza 11. As Jamieson remoulds the ballad, it is no burden, but a part of the dialogue throughout.
The main part of the action is the same as in 'Little Musgrave.' The superior lyrical quality of the Scottish ballad makes up for its inferiority as a story, so that on the whole it cannot be prized much lower than the noble English ballad.
Cunningham has rewritten the ballad in his own style, pretending, as often, to have known another recited copy: 'Sir Hugh,' Songs of Scotland, II, 130.
Was riding oer the lee, diddle
An there he saw a bonny birdy,
Was singing upon a tree. diddle
O wow for day! diddle
An dear gin it were day! diddle
Gin it were day, an gin I were away!
For I ha na lang time to stay. diddle
What keeps you here so late?
Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,
I fear you woud look blate.'
My fair body to kill,
Whan I hae knights at my comman,
An ladys at my will?'
Sa loud's I hear you lee;
Your lady's a knight in her arms twa
That she lees far better nor the.'
How you lee upo my sweet!
I will tak out my bonny bow,
An in troth I will you sheet.'
An a' your arrows yare,
I will flee till another tree,
Whare I can better fare.'
My bonny birdy, tell me:'
'O I was clecked in good green wood,
Intill a holly tree;
A gentleman my nest herryed,
An ga me to his lady.
He bade her feed me aft,
An ga her a little wee simmer-dale wanny,
To ding me sindle and saft.
I wot she fed me nought,
But wi a little wee simmer-dale wanny
She dang me sair an aft:
Gin she had deen as ye her bade,
I woudna tell how she has wrought.'
The live-lang simmer's night,
Till he came till his lady's bowr-door,
Then even down he did light:
The birdy sat on the crap of a tree,
An I wot it sang fu dight.
An dear gin it were day! diddle
Gin it were day, an gin I were away!
For I ha na lang time to stay.' diddle
An wish that you were away? diddle
Is no your hounds i my cellar,
Eating white meal an gray?' diddle
O wow, etc.
Eating good corn an hay?
An is nae your hawk i my perch-tree,
Just perching for his prey?
An is nae yoursel i my arms twa?
Then how can ye lang for day?'
An dear gin it were day! diddle
For he that's in bed wi anither man's wife
Has never lang time to stay.' diddle
An straiked it oer a strae,
An thro and thro the fa'se knight's waste
He gard cauld iron gae:
An I hope ilk ane sal sae be servd
That treats ane honest man sae.
The burden stands thus in the manuscript after the first stanza:
An dear gin it were day, diddle
Gin it were day, diddle
I were away,
For I ha na lang time to stay. diddle
131. nae you. (?)