4 A gallant squire cam sweet Isabel to wooe; Her sister had naething to luve I trow.
5 But filld was she wi dolour and ire, To see that to her the comlie squire
6 Preferd the debonair Isabel: Their hevin of luve of spyte was her hell.
7 Till ae ein she to her sister can say, 'Sweit sister, cum let us wauk and play.'
8 They wauked up, and they wauked down, Sweit sang the birdis in the vallie loun.
9 Whan they cam to the roaring lin, She drave unweiting Isabel in.
10 'O sister, sister, tak my hand, And ye sall hae my silver fan.
11 'O sister, sister, tak my middle, And ye sall hae my gowden girdle.'
12 Sumtimes she sank, sumtimes she swam, Till she cam to the miller's dam.
13 The miller's dochtor was out that ein, And saw her rowing down the streim.
14 'O father deir, in your mil-dam There is either a lady or a milk-white swan!'
15 Twa days were gane, whan to her deir Her wraith at deid of nicht cold appeir.
16 'My luve, my deir, how can ye sleip, Whan your Isabel lyes in the deip!
17 'My deir, how can ye sleip bot pain Whan she by her cruel sister is slain!'
18 Up raise he sune, in frichtfu mude: 'Busk ye, my meiny, and seik the flude.'
19 They socht her up and they socht her doun, And spyd at last her glisterin gown.
20 They raisd her wi richt meikle care; Pale was her cheik and grein was her hair.
#a.# Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 128. #b.# Traditional Ballad Airs, edited by W. Christie, I, 42.
1 There were twa sisters in a bower, Hey wi the gay and the grinding And ae king's son has courted them baith. At the bonny bonny bows o London
2 He courted the youngest wi broach and ring, He courted the eldest wi some other thing.
3 It fell ance upon a day The eldest to the youngest did say,
4 'Will ye gae to yon Tweed mill-dam, And see our father's ships come to land?'
5 They baith stood up upon a stane, The eldest dang the youngest in.
6 She swimmed up, sae did she down, Till she came to the Tweed mill-dam.
7 The miller's servant he came out, And saw the lady floating about.
8 'O master, master, set your mill, There is a fish, or a milk-white swan.'
9 They could not ken her yellow hair, [For] the scales o gowd that were laid there.
10 They could not ken her fingers sae white, The rings o gowd they were sae bright.