Catherine Janferry
Bonny Catherine Janferry,
The dainty dame so fair,
She 's faun in love wi young Lochinvar,
And she loved him without compare.
She loved him well, and wondrous well
To change her mind away;
But the day she goes another man's bride,
And plays him foul play.
Home came the Laird o Lauderdale,
A' from the South Countree,
And a' to court this weel-fart may,
And I wat good tent took he.
Gold nor gear he did no spare,
She was so fair a may,
And he agreed wi her friends all,
And set the wedding-day.
She sent for her first true-love,
Her wedding to come tee;
His father and his mother both,
They were to come him wi.
His father and his mother both,
They were to come him wi;
And they came both, and he came no,
And this was foul play.
He 's sent a quiet messenger
Now out thro a' the land,
To warn a hundred gentlemen,
O gallant and good renown.
O gallant and good renown,
And all o good aray,
And now he 's made his trumpet soun
A voss o foul play.
As they came up by Caley buss,
And in by Caley brae,
‘Stay still, stay still, my merry young men,
Stay still, if that you may.
‘Stay still, stay still, my merry young men,
Stay still, if that you may;
I 'll go to the bridal-house,
And see what they will say.’
When he gaed to the bridal-house,
And lighted and gaed in,
There were four and twenty English lords,
O gallant and good renown.
O gallant and good renown,
And all o good aray,
But aye he garred his trumpets soun
A voss o foul play.
When he was at the table set,
Amang these gentlemen,
He begond to vent some words
They couldna understan.
The English lords, they waxed wroth
What could be in his mind;
They stert to foot, on horseback lap,
‘Come fecht! what 's i your mind?’
‘I came na here to feght,’ he said,
‘But for good sport and play;
And one glass wi yer bonny bridegroom,
And I 'll go boun away.’
The glass was filled o good reed wine,
And drunken atween the twa;
‘And one glass wi your bonny bride,
And I 'se go boun away.’
Her maiden she stood forbye,
And quickly she said, ‘Nay
I winna gee a word o her
To none nor yet to thee.’
‘Oh, one word o yer bonny bride!
Will ye refuse me one?
Before her wedding-day was set,
I would hae gotten ten.
‘Take here my promise, maiden,
My promise and my hand,
Out oer her father's gates this day
Wi me she shanna gang.’
He 's bent him oer his saddle-bow,
To kiss her ere he gaed,
And he fastened his hand in her gown-breast,
And tust her him behind.
He pat the spurs into his horse
And fast rade out at the gate;
Ye wouldna hae seen his yellow locks
For the dust o his horse feet.
Fast has he ridden the wan water,
And merrily taen the know,
And then the battle it began;
I 'me sure it was na mow.
Bridles brack, and weight horse lap,
And blades flain in the skies,
And wan and drousie was the blood
Gaed lapperin down the lays.
Now all ye English lords,
In England where ye 'r borne,
Come never to Scotland to woo a bride,
For they 'le gie you the scorn.
For they 'le gie you the scorn,
The scorn, if that they may;
They 'll gie you frogs instead of fish,
And steal your bride away.
The dainty dame so fair,
She 's faun in love wi young Lochinvar,
And she loved him without compare.
She loved him well, and wondrous well
To change her mind away;
But the day she goes another man's bride,
And plays him foul play.
Home came the Laird o Lauderdale,
A' from the South Countree,
And a' to court this weel-fart may,
And I wat good tent took he.
Gold nor gear he did no spare,
She was so fair a may,
And he agreed wi her friends all,
And set the wedding-day.
She sent for her first true-love,
Her wedding to come tee;
His father and his mother both,
They were to come him wi.
His father and his mother both,
They were to come him wi;
And they came both, and he came no,
And this was foul play.
He 's sent a quiet messenger
Now out thro a' the land,
To warn a hundred gentlemen,
O gallant and good renown.
O gallant and good renown,
And all o good aray,
And now he 's made his trumpet soun
A voss o foul play.
As they came up by Caley buss,
And in by Caley brae,
‘Stay still, stay still, my merry young men,
Stay still, if that you may.
‘Stay still, stay still, my merry young men,
Stay still, if that you may;
I 'll go to the bridal-house,
And see what they will say.’
When he gaed to the bridal-house,
And lighted and gaed in,
There were four and twenty English lords,
O gallant and good renown.
O gallant and good renown,
And all o good aray,
But aye he garred his trumpets soun
A voss o foul play.
When he was at the table set,
Amang these gentlemen,
He begond to vent some words
They couldna understan.
The English lords, they waxed wroth
What could be in his mind;
They stert to foot, on horseback lap,
‘Come fecht! what 's i your mind?’
‘I came na here to feght,’ he said,
‘But for good sport and play;
And one glass wi yer bonny bridegroom,
And I 'll go boun away.’
The glass was filled o good reed wine,
And drunken atween the twa;
‘And one glass wi your bonny bride,
And I 'se go boun away.’
Her maiden she stood forbye,
And quickly she said, ‘Nay
I winna gee a word o her
To none nor yet to thee.’
‘Oh, one word o yer bonny bride!
Will ye refuse me one?
Before her wedding-day was set,
I would hae gotten ten.
‘Take here my promise, maiden,
My promise and my hand,
Out oer her father's gates this day
Wi me she shanna gang.’
He 's bent him oer his saddle-bow,
To kiss her ere he gaed,
And he fastened his hand in her gown-breast,
And tust her him behind.
He pat the spurs into his horse
And fast rade out at the gate;
Ye wouldna hae seen his yellow locks
For the dust o his horse feet.
Fast has he ridden the wan water,
And merrily taen the know,
And then the battle it began;
I 'me sure it was na mow.
Bridles brack, and weight horse lap,
And blades flain in the skies,
And wan and drousie was the blood
Gaed lapperin down the lays.
Now all ye English lords,
In England where ye 'r borne,
Come never to Scotland to woo a bride,
For they 'le gie you the scorn.
For they 'le gie you the scorn,
The scorn, if that they may;
They 'll gie you frogs instead of fish,
And steal your bride away.
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