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The boy he ran o'er muir and dale, As fast as he could flee; 90 And e'er the sun was twa hours hight, The boy was at Dundee.

Whan Johnie lookit the letter on, A hearty laugh leuch he; But ere he read it till an end, 95 The tear blinded his e'e.

"O wha is this, or wha is that, Has stown my love frae me?

Although he were my ae brither, An ill dead sall he die. 100

"Gae, saddle to me the black," he says; "Gae, saddle to me the brown; Gae, saddle to me the swiftest steed, That ever rade frae the town."

He's call'd upon his merry men a', 105 To follow him to the glen; And he's vow'd he'd neither eat nor sleep Till he got his love again.

He's mounted him on a milk-white steed, And fast he rade away; 110 And he's come to Glenlyon's yett, About the close o' day.

As Baby at her window stood, And the west-wind saft did blaw, She heard her Johnie's well-kent voice 115 Aneath the castle wa'.

"O Baby, haste, the window loup; I'll kep you in my arm; My merry men a' are at the yett To rescue you frae harm." 120

She to the window fix'd her sheets, And slipped safely down; And Johnie catched her in his arms, Ne'er loot her touch the groun'.

Glenlyon and his brother John 125 Were birling in the ha', When they heard Johnie's bridle ring As fast he rade awa'.

"Rise, Jock; gang out and meet the priest; I hear his bridle ring; 130 My Baby now shall be my wife, Before the laverock sing."

"O brother, this is nae the priest; I fear he'll come o'er late; For armed men wi' shining brands 135 Stand at the castle yett."

"Haste, Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh, Haste, tak your sword and spear; We'll gar these traytors rue the hour That e'er they ventured here." 140

The Highlandmen drew their claymores, And gae a warlike shout; But Johnie's merry men kept the yett, Nae ane durst venture out.

The lovers rade the lee-lang night, 145 And safe got on their way; And Bonny Baby Livingstone Has gotten Johny Hay.

"Awa, Glenlyon! fy for shame!

Gae hide you in some den; 150 You've latten your bride be stown frae you, For a' your armed men."


_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 37. For other versions, see _Bonny May_, Herd's _Scottish Songs_, i. 159, and Johnson's _Museum_, p. 113; _Broom o' the Cowdenknowes_, Buchan, i. 172; _Laird of Ochiltree_, Kinloch, 160; _Laird of Lochnie_, Kinloch, 167.

O the broom, and the bonny bonny broom, And the broom of the Cowdenknows!

And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang, I' the bought, milking the ewes.

The hills were high on ilka side, 5 An' the bought i' the lirk o' the hill, And aye, as she sang, her voice it rang, Out o'er the head o' yon hill.

There was a troup o' gentlemen Came riding merrilie by, 10 And one of them has rode out o' the way, To the bought to the bonny may.

"Weel may ye save an' see, bonny lass, An' weel may ye save an' see."-- "An' sae wi' you, ye weel-bred knight, 15 And what's your will wi' me?"--

"The night is misty and mirk, fair may, And I have ridden astray, And will you be so kind, fair may, As come out and point my way?"-- 20

"Ride out, ride out, ye ramp rider!

Your steed's baith stout and strang; For out of the bought I dare na come, For fear 'at ye do me wrang."--

"O winna ye pity me, bonny lass, 25 O winna ye pity me?

An' winna ye pity my poor steed, Stands trembling at yon tree?"--

"I wadna pity your poor steed, Though it were tied to a thorn; 30 For if ye wad gain my love the night, Ye wad slight me ere the morn.

"For I ken you by your weel-busket hat, And your merrie twinkling ee, That ye're the Laird o' the Oakland hills, 35 An' ye may weel seem for to be."--

"But I am not the Laird o' the Oakland hills, Ye're far mista'en o' me; But I'm ane o' the men about his house, An' right aft in his companie."-- 40

He's ta'en her by the middle jimp, And by the grass-green sleeve; He's lifted her over the fauld-dyke, And speer'd at her sma' leave.

O he's ta'en out a purse o' gowd, 45 And streek'd her yellow hair; "Now, take ye that, my bonny may, Of me till you hear mair."--

O he's leapt on his berry-brown steed, An' soon he's o'erta'en his men; 50 And ane and a' cried out to him, "O master, ye've tarry'd lang!"--

"O I hae been east, and I hae been west, An' I hae been far o'er the knowes, But the bonniest lass that ever I saw 55 Is i' the bought, milking the ewes."--

She set the cog upon her head, An' she's gane singing hame; "O where hae ye been, my ae daughter?

Ye hae na been your lane."-- 60

"O naebody was wi' me, father, O naebody has been wi' me; The night is misty and mirk, father, Yee may gang to the door and see.

"But wae be to your ewe-herd, father, 65 And an ill deed may he die; He bug the bought at the back o' the knowe, And a tod has frighted me.

"There came a tod to the bought door, The like I never saw; 70 And ere he had ta'en the lamb he did, I had lourd he had ta'en them a'."--

O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane, Fifteen weeks and three, That lassie began to look thin and pale, 75 An' to long for his merry-twinkling ee.

It fell on a day, on a het simmer day, She was ca'ing out her father's kye, Bye came a troop o' gentlemen, A' merrilie riding bye. 80

"Weel may ye save an' see, bonny may, Weel may ye save and see!

Weel I wat, ye be a very bonny may, But whae's aught that babe ye are wi'?"--

Never a word could that lassie say, 85 For never a ane could she blame, An' never a word could the lassie say, But "I have a gudeman at hame."--

"Ye lied, ye lied, my very bonny may, Sae loud as I hear you lie; 90 For dinna ye mind that misty night I was i' the bought wi' thee?

"I ken you by your middle sae jimp, An' your merry-twinkling ee, That ye're the bonny lass i' the Cowdenknow, 95 An' ye may weel seem for to be."--

Then he's leapt off his berry-brown steed, An' he's set that fair may on-- "Ca' out your kye, gude father, yoursell, For she's never ca' them out again. 100

"I am the Laird of the Oakland hills, I hae thirty plows and three; An' I hae gotten the bonniest lass That's in a' the south countrie."

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