"You need not cast off your gay costly gown,
To follow me on from town unto town;
You need not take the gold combs from your hair,
For Hynde Horn has gold enough, and to spare."
He stood up erect, let his beggar weed fall,
And shone there the foremost and noblest of all;
Then the bridegrooms were chang'd, and the lady re-wed,
To Hynde Horn thus come back, like one from the dead.
Old Ballad.
Glenlogie
There was monie a braw noble
Came to our Queen's ha';
But the bonnie Glenlogie
Was the flower of them a'.
And the young Ladye Jeanie,
Sae gude and sae fair,
She fancied Glenlogie
Aboon a' that were there.
She speired at his footman,
That ran by his side,
His name, and his sirname,
And where he did bide.
"He bides at Glenlogie,
When he is at hame;
He's of the gay Gordons,
And George is his name."
She wrote to Glenlogie,
To tell him her mind:
"My love is laid on you,
Oh, will you prove kind?"
He turn'd about lightly,
As the Gordons do a':
"I thank you, fair Ladye,
But I'm promis'd awa."
She call'd on her maidens
Her jewels to take,
And to lay her in bed,
For her heart it did break.
"Glenlogie! Glenlogie!
"Glenlogie!" said she;
"If I getna Glenlogie,
I'm sure I will dee."
"Oh, hold your tongue, daughter,
And weep na sae sair;
For you'll get Drumfindlay,
His father's young heir."
"Oh, hold your tongue, father,
And let me alane;
If I getna Glenlogie,
I'll never wed ane."
Then her father's old chaplain—
A man of great skill—
He wrote to Glenlogie,
The cause of this ill;
And her father, he sent off
This letter with speed,
By a trusty retainer,
Who rode his best steed.