GIL Morrice was an erlès son, His name it waxed wide; Nor zet his mickle pride; That livd on Carron side. Quhair sall I get a bonny boy, And ze maun rin my errand, Willie; And ze may rin wi' pride; Quhen other boys gae on their foot, On horse-back ze sall ride. 5 10 Ver. 11. something seems wanting here. 25 Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede, Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha', Gae bid hir take this gay mantèl, Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode, Hir ain hand sewd the sleive; And bid hir cum to Gill Morice, Yes, I will gae zour black errand, Though it be to zour cost; Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd, In it ze sall find frost. The baron he is a man of might, He neir could bide to taunt, As ze will see before its nicht, And sen I maun zour errand rin Sae sair against my will, Ver. 32, and 68. perhaps, 'bout the hem. 35 40 45 I'se mak a vow and keip it trow, It sall be done for ill. And quhen he came to broken brigue, And quhen he came to grass growing, } 50 Set down his feet and ran. And quhen he came to Barnards ha', 55 Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame ! Ver. 58. Could this be the wall of the castle? Ze Ze maun gae speik to Gill Moríce : And winked wi' hir ee; Bot a' that she coud say or do, Its surely to my bow'r-womàn; I brocht it to lord Barnards lady; Then up and spack the wylie nurse, It's deir welcum to mee. Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse, Sae loud I heird ze lee; I brocht it to lord Barnards lady; I trow ze be nae shee. Then up and spack the bauld baròn, An angry man was hee; He's tain the table wi' his foot, She has he wi' his knce; Till siller cup and 6 mazer*' dish 95 In flinders he gard flee. Ver. 88. Perhaps, loud say I heire. * i. e, a drinking cup of maple: other Edit. read ezar. Gae Gae bring a robe of zour cliding, That hings upon the pin; And I'll gae to the gude grene wode, And speik wi' zour lemmàn. O bide at hame, now lord Barnard, 100 Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode, 105 O what mean a' the folk coming, His brow was like the mountain snae Gilt by the morning beam : His cheeks like living roses glow: His een like azure stream. 115 |