Classic Poem

A.
Fair Isabel sat in her bower door
Sewin' her silken seam,
When she heard a note in Elwin's wood
And she wished she there had been.

She loot the seam fa' to her side,
The needle to her tae,
And she is aff to Elwin's wood
As fast as she can gae.

But she hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but ane,
When by there cam' a young hind chiel,
Said, Lady, lat alane.

Oh, why pu' ye the nut, the nut,
Or why break ye the tree?
For I'm the guardian o' the wood
And ye maun lat it be.

Oh, I will pu' the nut, she said,
An' I will break the tree,
For my father 's king o' a' the realm
An' the wood belangs to me.

But she hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but three,
When by there cam' young Aiken,
An' he gar'd her lat them be.

He's built a bower; made it secure,
An' plenished it weel within;
An' there she bore him seven bonnie boys
In the depths of the forest green.

But it fell ance upon a day
Young Aiken he thocht lang,
An' he has to the huntin' gane,
Ta'en wi' him his eldest son.

An asking I would ask, father,
If ye wadna angry be:
Ask on, ask on, my bonnie boy,
You'll no be quarrelled by me.

I see my mither's cheeks aye wet,
I seldom see them dry;
What can it be that makes my mither
To mourn continually?

Your mother was a king's daughter
An' far above my degree;
She might hae wed a nobleman
Had she no been stolen by me.

Oh, I'll shoot the buntin on the bush,
The linnet on the tree,
An' I'll bring them to my mither dear,
See if she'll merrier be.

But it fell again upon a day
Young Aiken he thocht lang,
An' he has to the huntin' gane
But left his eldest son.

As I came thro' the wood, mither,
I heard fine music ring;
Oh, I wish to Heaven, my son, she said,
That I had been there alane.

Money in my pocket I hae nane,
But royal rings I've three;
An' ye'll tak' them, my bonnie boy,
An' ye'll gang there for me.

The first ye'll gie to the proud porter,
He'll open an' lat ye in;
The next ye'll gie to the butler boy
An' he will show ye ben.

An' the third ye'll gie to the minstrel
That plays before the King;
An' he'll play success to the bonnie boy
That cam' thro' the wood alane.

The first he gave to the proud porter,
He opened and let him in;
The next he gave to the butler boy
And he has shown him ben.

The third he gave to the minstrel
That played before the King,
And he played success to the bonnie boy
That cam' thro' the wood alane.

When he came before the King
He fell down on his knee;
Said the King, Win up, my bonnie boy,
What wad ye ask o' me?

Oh, tell me quickly, bonnie boy,
What might your errand be?
For ye are sae like my daughter dear
That my heart will break in three.

If I be like your daughter dear--
It's wonder it is none
If I be like your daughter dear,
For I'm her eldest son.

Oh, tell me quickly, bonnie lad,
Where might my daughter be?
She's just now standing at your gates,
An' my six brothers her wi'.

There was Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick,
And likewise James and John;
And they called the eldest young Aiken,
It was his father's name.
B.
O well love I to ride in a mist
And shoot in a northern wind,
And far better a lady to steal
That's come from noble kind.

Four-and-twenty ladies
Put on that lady's sheen,
And as many young gentlemen
Did lead her o'er the green.

Yet she preferred before them all
Him, young Hastings the Groom;
He 's coosten a mist before them all
And away this lady has ta'en.

He's taken the lady on him behind,
Spared neither the grass nor corn,
Till they came to the wood of Amonshaw
Where again their loves were sworn.

And they have lived in that wood
Full many a year and day,
And were supported from time to time
By what he made of prey.

And seven bairns fair and fine
There she has born to him,
And never was in good church door
Nor never gat good kirking.

Once she took harp into her hand
And harped them asleep;
Then she sat down at their couch side
And bitterly did weep.

Said, Seven bairns have I born now
To my lord in the ha';
I wish they were seven greedy rats
To run upon the wa',
And I mysel' a great grey cat
To eat them ane an' a'.

For ten long years now I have lived
Within this cave of stane,
And never was at good church door
Nor got no good churching.

O then outspak her eldest child,
And a fine boy was he:
O hold your tongue, my mother dear,
I'll tell ye what to dee:

Take you the youngest in your lap,
The next youngest by the hand;
Put all the rest of us you before,
As you learnt us to gang.

And go with us into some kirk--
You say they are built of stane--
And let us all be christened,
And you get good kirking.

She took the youngest in her lap,
The next youngest by the hand--
Set all the rest of them her before,
As she learnt them to gang.

And she has left the wood with them
And to a kirk has gane,
Where the good priest them christened
And gave her good kirking.