He has ta’en her by the left shoulder,
And O but she grat sairly,
And led her down to yon green bank,
Till he plundered the bonnie house o’ Airly.
“O it’s I hae seven braw sons,” she says,
“And the youngest ne’er saw his daddie,
And altho’ I had as mony mae,
I wad gie them a’ to Charlie.
“But gin my good lord had been at hame,
As this night he is wi’ Charlie,
There durst na a Campbell in a’ the west
Hae plundered the bonnie house o’ Airly.”
ROB ROY
(Child, vol. vi. Early Edition.)
Rob Roy from the Highlands cam,
Unto the Lawlan’ border,
To steal awa a gay ladie
To haud his house in order.
He cam oure the lock o’ Lynn,
Twenty men his arms did carry;
Himsel gaed in, an’ fand her out,
Protesting he would many.
“O will ye gae wi’ me,” he says,
“Or will ye be my honey?
Or will ye be my wedded wife?
For I love you best of any.”
“I winna gae wi’ you,” she says,
“Nor will I be your honey,
Nor will I be your wedded wife;
You love me for my money.”
* * * * *
But he set her on a coal-black steed,
Himsel lap on behind her,
An’ he’s awa to the Highland hills,
Whare her frien’s they canna find her.
* * * * *