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

19$
That ye didna waken your master,
Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."
" O wyte* na me, now, my master dear,
I garr'd a' my young hawks sing,
And still I cried, Waken, gude master,
For now is the hour and time."
" Then be it sae, my wager gane !
'Twill skaith frae meikle ill;f
—
—
For gif I had found her in bonnie broom-fields,
O' her heart's blude ye'd drunken your fill."
* Wyte—blame.
f ' Twill skaith frae meikle ill, i. e. it will keep me innocent
of much evil.