SIR ROLAND
(Child, vol. i. Early Edition.)
Whan he cam to his ain luve’s bouir
He tirled at the pin,
And sae ready was his fair fause luve
To rise and let him in.
“O welcome, welcome, Sir Roland,” she says,
“Thrice welcome thou art to me;
For this night thou wilt feast in my secret bouir,
And to-morrow we’ll wedded be.”
“This night is hallow-eve,” he said,
“And to-morrow is hallow-day;
And I dreamed a drearie dream yestreen,
That has made my heart fu’ wae.
“I dreamed a drearie dream yestreen,
And I wish it may cum to gude:
I dreamed that ye slew my best grew hound,
And gied me his lappered blude.”
* * * * *
“Unbuckle your belt, Sir Roland,” she said,
And set you safely down.”
“O your chamber is very dark, fair maid,
And the night is wondrous lown.”
“Yes, dark, dark is my secret bouir,
And lown the midnight may be;
For there is none waking in a’ this tower
But thou, my true love, and me.”
* * * * *