Hind Horn Hind Horn fair and Hind horn free Oh where were you born, in what country? In good greenwood, thee was I born And all by forebears me beforn Oh, seven years I served the king And as for wages I never got nane But ae sight of his ae daughter And that was through an auger bore I gaed my love a silver wand 'Twas to rule over all Scotland And she gave me a gay gold ring The virtue of it was above all things As long as this ring keeps its hue You'll know I am a lover true But when the ring turns pale and wan You'll know I love another man He hoist up his sails and away sailed he And sailed into a far country And when he looked upon his ring He knew she loved another man He hoist up sails and home came he Home unto his own country The first he met on his own land It chanced to be a beggar man What news, what news, my good old man? What news, what news, have you to me? Nae news, nae news, said the old man The morn's the queen's wedding day Will you lend me your begging weed? And I'll lend you my riding steed My begging weed would ill suit thee And your riding steed will ill suit me But part be right and part be wrong Frae the beggar man the cloak he won Old man, come tell me to your lead What news you give when you earn your bread? As you walk up unto the hill Your pike staff you lend ye till But when ye come near by the yett Straight to them you will upstep Take nane from Peter nor from Paul Nane from high or low of them all And from them all he would take nane Until it came from the bride's ain hand The bride came tripping down the stair The combs of red gold all in her hair A cup of red wine in her hand And that she gave to the beggar man Out of the cup he drank the wine And into the cup he dropped the ring Oh, got ye't by sea or got ye't by land Or got ye't on a drownd man's hand? I got it not by sea, nor got it by land Nor got I it on a dead man's hand But I got it at my wooing gay And I'll gie't you on your wedding day I'll take the red gold frae my head And follow you and beg my bread I'll take the red gold frae my hair And follow you forever mair Between the kitchen and the hall He let his coutie cloak downfall And with red gold shone over them all And frae the bridegroom the bride he stole _______________ Child #17 Collected by Child and Gavin SOF
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!