Ancient Scottish ballads, recovered from tradition, and never before ...

94
Whan this bonnie boy was brought afore the king,
His claithing was o' the silk,
His fine yellow hair hang dangling doun,
And his skin was like the milk.
"Na wonder, na wonder, Lord Thomas," he says,
My dochter fell in love wi' thee,
For if I war a woman, as I am a man,
My bed-fellow ye shou'd be
Then will ye marry my dochter Janet,
To be heir to a' my land;
O will ye marry my dochter Janet,
Wi' the truth o' your richt hand?"
" I will marry your dochter Janet,
Wi' the truth o' my richt hand
I'll hae nane o' your gowd, nor yet o' your gear,
I've eneuch in fair Scotland.
" But I will marry your dochter Janet,—
I care na for your land,
For she's be a queen, and I a king,
Whan we come to fair Scotland."
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