"But haste and haste, my gude white steed,
50 To come the maiden till,
Or a' the birds of gude green wood
Of your flesh shall have their fill."—
"Ye needna burst your gude white steed,
Wi' racing o'er the howm;
55 Nae bird flies faster through the wood,
Than she fled through the broom."
LORD JOHN.
From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, (p. 195.)
"I'll wager, I'll wager," says Lord John,
"A hundred merks and ten,
That ye winna gae to the bonnie broom-fields,
And a maid return again."—
5 "But I'll lay a wager wi' you, Lord John,
A' your merks oure again,
That I'll gae alane to the bonnie broom-fields,
And a maid return again."
Then Lord John mounted his grey steed,
10 And his hound wi' his bells sae bricht,
And swiftly he rade to the bonny broom-fields,
Wi' his hawks, like a lord or knicht.
"Now rest, now rest, my bonnie grey steed,
My lady will soon be here;
15 And I'll lay my head aneath this rose sae red,
And the bonnie burn sae near."