EDOM O' GORDON.
It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
"We maun draw to a hauld.
"And whatna hauld sall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house o' the Rodes,
To see that fair ladie."
The ladie stude on her castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down,
There she was ware of a host of men
Were riding towards the town.
"O see ye not, my merry men a',
O see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men—
I marvel what they be."
She ween'd it had been ner ain dear lord
As he cam' riding hame;
It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon,
Wha recked nor sin nor shame.
She had nae suner buskit hersell,
Nor putten on her goun,
Till Edom o' Gordon and his men
Were round about the toun.
They had nae suner supper set,
Nor suner said the grace,
Till Edom o' Gordon and his men
Were light about the place.
The ladie ran to her tower head,
As fast as she could hie,
To see if, by her fair speeches,
She could with him agree.
"Come doun to me, ye ladye gay,
Come doun, come doun to me;
This nicht sall ye lie within my arms,
The morn my bride sall be."