29 There was nae pity for that lady,
For she lay cald and dead,
But a' was for him, Glenkindie,
In bower he must go mad.
C
Kinloch's MSS, III, 139, in the handwriting of John Hill Burton.
1 Glenkinnie was as good a harper
As ever harpet tone;
He harpet fish out o the sea-flood,
And water out of a dry loan,
And milk out o the maiden's breast
That bairn had never neen.
2 He harpit i the king's palace,
He harpit them a' asleep,
Unless it were Burd Bell alone,
And she stud on her feet.
3 'Ye will do ye home, Glenkinnie,
And ye will take a sleep,
And ye will come to my bower-door
Before the cock's crowing.'
4 He's taen out his milk-white steed,
And fast away rode he,
Till he came to his ain castle,
Where gold glanced never so hie.
5 'Might I tell ye, Jeck, my man,
Gin I had slain a man?'
'Deed might [ye], my good master,
Altho ye had slain ten.'
6 'I've faun in love wi a gay ladie,
She's daughter to the Queen,
And I maun be at her bower-door
Before the cock's crowing.'
7 He's taen out his master's steed,
And fast awa rode he,
Until he cam to Burd Bell's door,
Where gold glanced never so hie.