16. Sheath And Knife
16a: Sheath And Knife
16a.1 It is talked the warld all over,
Refrain: The brume blooms bonnie and says it is fair
That the kings dochter gaes wi child to her brither.
Refrain: And well never gang doun to the brume onie mair
16A.2 Hes taen his sister doun to her fathers 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 yell 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 theyll 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 theyll never, etc.
16A.7 And when he came to his fathers court hall,
There was music and minstrels and dancing and all.
Refrain: But theyll never, etc.
16a.8 O Willie, O Willie, what makes thee in pain?
I have lost a sheath and knife that Ill never see again.
Refrain: For well never, etc.
16A.9 There is ships o your fathers sailing on the sea
That will bring as good a sheath and a knife unto thee.
16A.10 There is ships o my fathers sailing on the sea,
But sic a sheath and a knife they can never bring to me.
16A.10r Now well never, etc.
16b: Sheath And Knife
16b.1 Ae lady has whispered the other,
Refrain: The broom grows bonnie, the broom grows fair
Lady Margarets 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 Its I hae broken my little pen-knife
That I loed dearer than my life.
Refrain: And I daur na, etc.
* * * * *
16b.5 Its no for the knife that my tears doun run,
But its a for the case that my knife was kept in.
16c: Sheath And Knife
16c.1 Its whispered in parlour, its whispered in ha,
Refrain: The broom blooms bonie, the broom blooms fair
Lady Margets 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 Margets 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: Sheath And Knife
16d.1 Ae kings dochter said to anither,
Refrain: Broom blooms bonnie an grows sae fair
Well gae ride like sister and brither.
Refrain: But well never gae down to the broom nae mair
16[e]: Sheath And Knife
16[e].1 One kings daughter said to anither,
Refrain: Brume blumes bonnie and grows sae fair
16[E.1] Well gae ride like sister and brither.
Refrain: And well neer gae down to the brume nae mair
16[E.2] Well 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 well 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 kings 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 kings dochter has ridden awa,
But bonnie Lady Ann lay in the deed-thraw.
16[f]: Sheath And Knife
16[f].1 There is a feast in your fathers 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 well 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] Hes tane his lady on his back,
And his auld son in his coat-lap.
16[f.4] When ye hear me give a cry,
Yell 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 thourt sad,
At our braw meeting you micht be glad.
16[f.12] Oh, said he, Father, Ive 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,
Ill buy thee a sheath and a knife therein.
16[f.15] A the ships ere sailed the sea
Neerll 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.
16a.1 It is talked the warld all over,
Refrain: The brume blooms bonnie and says it is fair
That the kings dochter gaes wi child to her brither.
Refrain: And well never gang doun to the brume onie mair
16A.2 Hes taen his sister doun to her fathers 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 yell 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 theyll 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 theyll never, etc.
16A.7 And when he came to his fathers court hall,
There was music and minstrels and dancing and all.
Refrain: But theyll never, etc.
16a.8 O Willie, O Willie, what makes thee in pain?
I have lost a sheath and knife that Ill never see again.
Refrain: For well never, etc.
16A.9 There is ships o your fathers sailing on the sea
That will bring as good a sheath and a knife unto thee.
16A.10 There is ships o my fathers sailing on the sea,
But sic a sheath and a knife they can never bring to me.
16A.10r Now well never, etc.
16b: Sheath And Knife
16b.1 Ae lady has whispered the other,
Refrain: The broom grows bonnie, the broom grows fair
Lady Margarets 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 Its I hae broken my little pen-knife
That I loed dearer than my life.
Refrain: And I daur na, etc.
* * * * *
16b.5 Its no for the knife that my tears doun run,
But its a for the case that my knife was kept in.
16c: Sheath And Knife
16c.1 Its whispered in parlour, its whispered in ha,
Refrain: The broom blooms bonie, the broom blooms fair
Lady Margets 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 Margets 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: Sheath And Knife
16d.1 Ae kings dochter said to anither,
Refrain: Broom blooms bonnie an grows sae fair
Well gae ride like sister and brither.
Refrain: But well never gae down to the broom nae mair
16[e]: Sheath And Knife
16[e].1 One kings daughter said to anither,
Refrain: Brume blumes bonnie and grows sae fair
16[E.1] Well gae ride like sister and brither.
Refrain: And well neer gae down to the brume nae mair
16[E.2] Well 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 well 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 kings 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 kings dochter has ridden awa,
But bonnie Lady Ann lay in the deed-thraw.
16[f]: Sheath And Knife
16[f].1 There is a feast in your fathers 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 well 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] Hes tane his lady on his back,
And his auld son in his coat-lap.
16[f.4] When ye hear me give a cry,
Yell 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 thourt sad,
At our braw meeting you micht be glad.
16[f.12] Oh, said he, Father, Ive 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,
Ill buy thee a sheath and a knife therein.
16[f.15] A the ships ere sailed the sea
Neerll 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.
