Is not thy hawke upon the pearche,

Thy horfe eating corne and haye? And thou a gay lady within thine armes : And wouldst thou be awaye?

By this lord Barnard was come to the dore,

And lighted upon a stone:

And he pulled out three silver keyes,

And opened the dores eche one.

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70

He lifted up the coverlett,

He lifted up the sheete;

How now, how now, thou little Musgràve,
Doft find my gaye ladye.fweete?

75

I find her fweete, quoth little Mufgràve,
The more is my griefe and paine;

Ide gladlye give three hundred poundes

That I were on yonder plaine.

80

Arife, arife, thou little Mufgràve,

And put thy cloathes nowe on,

It all never be faid in my countree,
That I killed a naked man.

I have two fwordes in one scabbàrde,
Full deare they cost my purse;
And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.

85

The

The firft ftroke that little Mufgrave ftrucke,
He hurt lord Barnard fore;
The next froke that lord Barnard ftrucke,
Little Mufgrave never strucke more.

With that befpake the ladye faire,
In bed whereas the laye,

90

Althoughe thou art dead, my little Musgràve, 95 Yet for thee I will praye:

And wishe well to thy foule will I,

So long as I have life;

So will I not do for thee, Barnard,
Thoughe I am thy wedded wife.

He cut her pappes from off her breft;
Great pitye it was to fee

The drops of this fair ladyes bloode
Run trickling downe her knee."

100

Wo worth, wo worth ye, my merrye men all, 105
You never were borne for my goode:

Why did you not offer to stay my hande,
When you fawe me wax fo woode?

For I have flaine the fairest fir knighte,

That ever rode on a steede;

So have I done the fairest lady,
That ever ware womans weedę.

110

A grave, a grave, lord Barnard cryde,
To putt these lovers in;

But lay my ladye of the upper hande,

For fhee comes o' the better kin.

That the more modern copy is to be dated about the middle of the laft century, will be readily conceived from the tenor of the concluding ftanza, viz.

This fad Mifchief by Luft was wrought;

Then let us call for Grace,

That we may fhun the wicked vice,

And fly from Sin a-pace."

XII. *

THE EW-BUGHTS MARION,

A SCOTTISH Song.

This fonnet appears to be ancient: that and it's fimplicity of
Sentiment have recommended it to a place here.

WILL
ILL ze gae to the ew-bughts, Marion,

And wear in the fheip wi' mee?

The fun shines fweit, my Marion,
But nae half fae fweit as thee.

O Marion's a bonnie lass;

And the blyth blinks in her ee;
And fain wad I marrie Marion,

Gin Marion wad marrie mee,

{

Theire's

Theire's gowd in zour garters, Marion;
And filler on zour white hauss-bane *:
Fou faine wad I kiffe my Marion

At eene quhan I cum hame.
Theire's braw lads in Earnflaw, Marion,

Quha gape and glowr wi' their ee
At kirk, quhan they fee my Marion;
Bot nane of them lues like mee.

Ive nine milk-ews, my Marion,

A cow and a brawney quay;
Ife gie tham au to my Marion,

Just on her bridal day.
And zees get a grein sey apron,

And waistcote o' London broun;
And wow bot ze will be vaporing
Quhaneir ze gang to the toun,

Ime yong and ftout, my Marion,
None dance lik mee on the greine;

And gin ze forfak me, Marion,

ΤΟ

15

20

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30

And fune as my chin has nae haire

on,

I fall cum west, and see zee.

Haufs bane. i. e. The neck-bone.

Marian had probably a filver

locket on, tied clofe to her neck with a ribband, an usual ornament in Scot

land: where a fore throat is called “ a fair hause," properly halfe.

XIII.

THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD's DAUGHTER.

This ballad (given from an old black-letter Copy, with Some corrections) was popular in the time of 2. Elizabeth, being ufually printed with her picture before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface to "Gul. Neubrig. Hift. Oxon. 1719, 8vo. vol. I. p. lxx." It is quoted in Fletcher's comedy of the Pilgrim, Act 4. Sc. 1.

I

HERE was a shepherds daughter

THE

Came tripping on the waye;

And there by chance a knighte shee mett,
Which caufed her to staye.

Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide,

These words pronounced hee:

OI fhall dye this daye, he fayd,

If Ive not my wille of thee.

The Lord forbid, the maide replyde,

That you

fhold waxe fo wode!

But for all that shee could do or faye,

'He wold not be withstood.'

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