Classic Poem

Gin I were on my milkwhite steed
And three miles frae the toon,
I wadna fear your three bauld brithers
Amang the bents and broom.

But he wasna weel on o' his milkwhite steed,
Or ae mile frae the toon,
Till up it starts her three bauld brithers
Amang the bents and broom.

I wad a wad noo, sweet Willie,
A wad or than your life:
I hae nae wad to gie, he says,
Unless I gie my brand.

Then he pulled out a bloody brand
A little below his gair,
And he has killed her three bauld brithers
And left them sprawin' there.

But when her mother heard o' that
An angry woman was she;
And on unto the King she gaed
As fast as gang could she;
But when her daughter heard o' that
She was there as soon as she.

Her mother 's in before the King,
Bowed low down on her knee.
Win up, win up, ye gay lady,
What is your will wi' me?
There is a knight into your court
This day has robbed me.

Oh, has he broke your bigly bower,
Or has he stown your fee?
Or has he stown the gay clothing
That hangs low by your knee?

Oh, he has broke my bigly bower
And he has stown my fee;
And he 's beguiled my ae daughter,
And a bad woman is she.
And he has slain my three bauld sons
Amang the bents and broom.

Ye lee, ye lee, my mother dear,
Sae lood 's I hear ye lee;
He hasna broke your bigly bower,
Nor has he stown your fee;
Nor has beguiled your ae daughter,
For a good woman I'll be.

He has slain your three bauld sons
Amang the bents and broom;
But your three sons was weel armed,
And my love was alone.

Speak on, speak on, ye gay lady,
Your words weel pleases me;
For ae kiss o' your comely mouth
I'll set your bonnie love free.

She 's ta'en the KinGin her arms
And kissed him cheek and chin;
And he 's set her on ahin' her love
And she 's gane singin' hame.