William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
The Liddel BowerJames Hogg (17701835)
‘O
Or will ye walk the lea?
Or will ye gae to the Liddel Bower,
An’ rest a while wi’ me?’
The wind blaws on the lea;
An’ when I gae to Liddel Bower
It shall not be wi’ thee.’
The hart but and the hind;
My flocks lie in the Border dale,
My steeds outstrip the wind;
A thousand tend the ca’:
Oh, gae wi’ me to Liddel Bower—
What ill can thee befa’?
We met at even tide,
I kissed your young an’ rosy lips,
An’ wooed you for my bride?
The tear stand in your e’e;
Oh, could I ween, fair Lady Jane,
That then ye lo’ed na me?’
An’ sairer yet may rue;
Ye thought na on my maiden love,
Nor yet my rosy hue.
Nor vow nor tear o’ mine;
Ye thought upon the lands o’ Nith,
An’ how they might be thine.
Nae mair my bosom wring:
There is a bird within yon bower,
Oh, gin ye heard it sing!’
He turned his eye away,
The gowden hilt fell to his hand;
‘What can the wee bird say?’
‘Oh, wae’s me, dame, for thee,
An’ wae’s me for the comely knight
That sleeps aneath the tree!
Nae belt nor brand has he;
His blood is on a kinsman’s spear;
Oh, wae’s me, dame, for thee!’
My steed stands at the tree;
An’ ye maun dree a dulefu’ weird,
Or mount and fly wi’ me.’
Sae fast in belt an’ steel?
What gars the Jardine mount his steed,
And scour owre muir and dale?
An’ down by Tarras linn?
The heiress o’ the lands o’ Nith,
Is lost to a’ her kin.
Down by the salt sea faem;
An’ lang, lang may the Maxwells look,
Afore their bride come hame.
An’ ban the deed for aye;—
The deed was done at Liddel Bower
About the break of day.