| |
I
O JELLON GRAME sat in Silverwood, | |
| He sharp’d his broadsword lang; | |
| And he has call’d his little foot-page | |
| An errand for to gang. | |
| |
II
‘Win up, my bonny boy,’ he says, | 5 |
| ‘As quickly as ye may; | |
| For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower | |
| Before the break of day.’— | |
| |
III
The boy has buckled his belt about, | |
| And through the green-wood ran; | 10 |
| And he came to the ladye’s bower | |
| Before the day did dawn. | |
| |
IV
‘O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower? | |
| The red sun’s on the rain; | |
| Ye’re bidden come to Silverwood, | 15 |
| But I doubt ye’ll never win hame.’ | |
| |
V
She hadna ridden a mile, a mile, | |
| A mile but barely three, | |
| Ere she came to a new-made grave | |
| Beneath a green aik tree. | 20 |
| |
VI
O then up started Jellon Grame | |
| Out of a bush thereby; | |
| ‘Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower, | |
| For it’s here that ye maun lye.’ | |
| |
VII
She lighted aff her milk-white steed, | 25 |
| And kneel’d upon her knee; | |
| ‘O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame, | |
| For I’m no prepared to die! | |
| |
VIII
‘Your bairn, that stirs between my sides, | |
| Maun shortly see the light; | 30 |
| But to see it weltering in my blood | |
| Would be a piteous sight.’— | |
| |
IX
‘O should I spare your life,’ he says, | |
| ‘Until that bairn were born, | |
| Full weel I ken your auld father | 35 |
| Would hang me on the morn.’— | |
| |
X
‘O spare my life now, Jellon Grame! | |
| My father ye needna dread! | |
| I’ll keep my babe in gude green-wood, | |
| Or wi’ it I’ll beg my bread.’— | 40 |
| |
XI
He took nae pity on Lillie Flower, | |
| Though she for life did pray; | |
| But pierced her through the fair body | |
| As at his feet she lay. | |
| |
XII
He felt nae pity for Lillie flower, | 45 |
| Where she was lying dead; | |
| But he felt some for the bonny bairn | |
| That lay weltering in her bluid. | |
| |
XIII
Up has he ta’en that bonny boy, | |
| Given him to nurses nine; | 50 |
| Three to sleep, and three to wake, | |
| And three to go between. | |
| |
XIV
And he bred up that bonny boy, | |
| Call’d him his sister’s son; | |
| And he thought nae eye could ever see | 55 |
| The deed that had been done. | |
| |
XV
O so it fell upon a day, | |
| When hunting they might be, | |
| They rested them in Silverwood, | |
| Beneath that green aik tree. | 60 |
| |
XVI
And many were the green-wood flowers | |
| Upon that grave that grew, | |
| And marvell’d much that bonny boy | |
| To see their lovely hue. | |
| |
XVII
‘What’s paler than the primrose wan? | 65 |
| What’s redder than the rose? | |
| What’s fairer than the lilye flower | |
| On this wee know that grow?’— | |
| |
XVIII
O out and answer’d Jellon Grame, | |
| And he spak hastilie: | 70 |
| ‘Your mother was a fairer flower, | |
| And lies beneath this tree. | |
| |
XIX
‘More pale she was, when she sought my grace, | |
| Than primrose pale and wan; | |
| And redder than rose her ruddy heart’s blood, | 75 |
| That down my broadsword ran.’— | |
| |
XX
Wi’ that the boy has bent his bow, | |
| It was baith stout and lang; | |
| And thro’ and thro’ him, Jellon Grame, | |
| He gar’d an arrow gang. | 80 |
| |
XXI
Says,—‘Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame! | |
| My malisoun gang you wi’! | |
| The place that my mother lies buried in | |
| Is far too good for thee.’ | |
| | | GLOSS: wee know] little hillock. |
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