YOUNG REDIN.
"From the recitation of Miss E. Beattie, of Edinburgh, a native of Mearnsshire, who sings it to a plaintive, though somewhat monotonous air of one measure."—Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 1.
Young Redin's til the huntin gane,
Wi' therty lords and three;
And he has til his true-love gane,
As fast as he could hie.
"Ye're welcome here, my young Redin,5
For coal and candle licht;
And sae are ye, my young Redin,
To bide wi' me the nicht."
"I thank ye for your licht, ladie,
Sae do I for your coal;10
But there's thrice as fair a ladie as thee
Meets me at Brandie's well."
Whan they were at their supper set,
And merrily drinking wine,
This ladie has tane a sair sickness,15
And til her bed has gane.
Young Redin he has followed her,
And a dowie man was he;
He fund his true-love in her bouer,
And the tear was in her ee.20
Whan he was in her arms laid,
And gieing her kisses sweet,
Then out she's tane a little penknife,
And wounded him sae deep.
"O lang, lang, is the winter nicht,25
And slawly daws the day;
There is a slain knicht in my bouer,
And I wish he war away."