14 Lord Barnard he had a little small sword,
That hung low down by his knee;
He cut the head off Child Noryce,
And put the body on a tree.
15 And when he came home to his castell,
And to his ladie's hall,
He threw the head into her lap,
Saying, Lady, there's a ball!
16 She turned up the bloody head,
She kissed it frae cheek to chin:
'Far better do I love this bloody head
Than all my royal kin.
17 'When I was in my father's castel,
In my virginity,
There came a lord into the North,
Gat Child Noryce with me.'
18 'O wae be to thee, Lady Margaret,' he sayd,
'And an ill death may you die;
For if you had told me he was your son,
He had neer been slain by me.'
C
Motherwell's MS., p. 510, from the singing of Mrs Storie, wife of William Storie, laborer, Lochwinnoch. A song of Mrs Storie's grandmother.
1 Bob Norice is to the grein-wud gane,
He is awa wi the wind;
His horse is siller-shod afore,
In the shynand gowd ahind.
2 He said unto his wee boy John,
I sie what ye dinna sie;
I see the [first] woman that I eer luvit,
Or ever luvit me.
3 'Gae tak to hir this pair o gluvis,
They're o the siller-gray,
And tell her to cum to the merrie grein-wud
An speik to Bob Norice.