Classic Poem

O heard ye of a silly Harper,
Liv'd long in Lochmaben town,
How he did gang to fair England
To steal King Henry's wanton brown,
How he did gang to fair England
To steal King Henry's wanton brown.

But first he gaed to his gudewife
Wi' a' the speed that he cou'd thole:
This wark, quo' he, will never work,
Without a mare that has a foal.

Quo' she, thou has a gude grey mare,
That'll rin o'er hills baith low and hie;
Gae tak' the grey mare in thy hand,
And leave the foal at hame wi' me.

And tak' a halter in thy hose,
And o' thy purpose dinna fail;
But wap it o'er the wanton's nose;
And tie her to the grey mare's tail.

Syne ca' her out at yon back yeate,
O'er moss and muir and ilka dale,
For she'll ne'er let the wanton bite
Till she come hame to her ain foal.

So he is up to England gane,
Even as fast as he can hie,
Till he came to King Henry's yeate;
And wha was there but King Henry?

Come in, quo' he, thou silly blind Harper;
And of thy harping let me hear.
O! by my sooth, quo' the silly blind Harper,
I'd rather hae stabling for my mare.

The King looks o'er his left shoulder,
And says unto his stable groom,
Gae tak the silly poor Harper's mare
And tie her 'side my wanton brown.

And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit,
Till a' the Lords gaed through the floor;
They thought the music was sae sweet,
That they forgat the stable door.

And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit,
Till a' the nobles were sound asleep;
Then quietly he took aff his shoon,
And saftly down the stair did creep.

Syne to the stable door he hies,
Wi' tread as light as light cou'd be;
And whan he open'd and gaed in,
There he fand thirty good steeds and three.

He took the halter frae his hose,
And of his purpose did na' fail;
He slipt it o'er the wanton's nose,
And tied it to his grey mare's tail.

He ca'd her out at yon back yeate,
O'er moss and muir and ilka dale,
And she loot ne'er the wanton bite,
But held her still gaun at her tail.

They grey mare was right swift o' fit,
And did na fail to find the way;
For she was at Lochmaben yeate
Fu' lang three hours ere it was day.

When she came to the Harper's door,
There she gae mony a nicher and snear;
Rise, quo' the wife, thou lazy lass,
Let in thy master and his mare.

Then up she raise, pat on her claes,
And lookit but through the lock-hole;
O! by my sooth then, quoth the lass,
Our mare has gotten a braw big foal.

Come haud thy peace then, foolish lass,
The moon 's but glancing in thy e'e;
I'll wad my haill fee 'gainst a groat,
It 's bigger than e'er our foal will be.

The neighbours too that heard the noise
Cried to the wife to put her in;
By my sooth, then quoth the wife,
She 's better than ever he rade on.

But on the morn at fair day light,
When they had ended a' their chear,
King Henry's wanton brown was stawn,
And eke the poor old Harper's mare.

Alace! alace! says the silly blind Harper,
Alace! alace! that I came here;
In Scotland I've tint a braw cowte foal,
In England they've stawn my guid grey mare.

Come had thy tongue, thou silly blind harper,
And of thy alacing let me be;
For thou shall get a better mare,
And weel paid shall thy cowte foal be;
For thou shall get a better mare,
And weel paid shall thy cowte foal be.