23 'Go home, go home, my brothers seven,
You may go blow your horn;
And you may tell it in merry England
That your sister has given you the scorn.
24 'Go home, go home, my brothers seven,
Tell my sisters to sew their seam;
And you may tell it in merry England
That your sister she is queen.'
C
Motherwell's MS., p. 435; communicated by Peter Buchan, from a MS. which had been sent him.
1 'O well is me, my jolly goshawk,
That ye can speak and flee,
For ye can carry a love-letter
To my true-love from me.'
2 'O how can I carry a letter to her,
When her I do not knaw?
I bear the lips to her never spake,
And the eyes that her never saw.'
3 'The thing of my love's face is white
It's that of dove or maw;
The thing of my love's face that's red
Is like blood shed on snaw.
4 'And when you come to the castle,
Light on the bush of ash,
And sit you there and sing our loves,
As she comes from the mass.
5 'And when she goes into the house,
Sit ye upon the whin;
And sit you there and sing our loves,
As she goes out and in.'
6 And when he flew to that castel,
He lighted on the ash;
And there he sat and sang their loves,
As she came from the mass.