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And he spak meek and mild;

       “And ever alas, sweet Janet,” he says.

       “I think thou gaes wi child.”

      “If that I gae wi’ child, father,

       Mysel maun bear the blame;

       There’s neer a laird about your ha

       Shall get the bairn’s name.

      “If my love were an earthly knight,

       As he’s an elfin grey,

       I wad na gie my ain true-love

       For nae lord that ye hae.

      “The steed that my true-love rides on

       Is lighter than the wind;

       Wi siller he is shod before

       Wi burning gowd behind.”

      Janet has kilted her green kirtle

       A little aboon her knee,

       And she has snooded her yellow hair

       A little aboon her bree,

       And she’s awa’ to Carterhaugh,

       As fast as she can hie.

      When she cam to Carterhaugh,

       Tam Lin was at the well,

       And there she fand his steed standing,

       But away was himsel.

      She had na pu’d a double rose,

       A rose but only twa,

       Till up then started young Tam Lin,

       Says, “Lady, thou pu’s nae mae.

      “Why pu’s thou the rose, Janet,

       Amang the groves sae green,

       And a’ to kill the bonie babe

       That we gat us between?”

      “O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin,” she says,

       “For’s sake that died on tree,

       If eer ye was in holy chapel,

       Or christendom did see?”

      “Roxbrugh he was my grandfather,

       Took me with him to bide,

       And ance it fell upon a day

       That wae did me betide.

      “And ance it fell upon a day,

       A cauld day and a snell,

       When we were frae the hunting come,

       That frae my horse I fell;

       The Queen o Fairies she caught me,

       In yon green hill to dwell.

      “And pleasant is the fairy land,

       But, an eerie tale to tell,

       Ay at the end of seven years

       We pay a tiend to hell;

       I am sae fair and fu’ o flesh

       I’m feared it be mysel.

      “But the night is Halloween, lady,

       The morn is Hallowday;

       Then win me, win me, an ye will,

       For weel I wat ye may.

      “Just at the mirk and midnight hour

       The fairy folk will ride,

       And they that wad their true love win,

       At Miles Cross they maun bide.”

      “But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin,

       Or how my true-love know,

       Amang sae mony unco knights

       The like I never saw?”

      “O first let pass the black, lady,

       And syne let pass the brown,

       But quickly run to the milk-white steed,

       Pu ye his rider down.

      “For I’ll ride on the milk-white steed,

       And ay nearest the town;

       Because I was an earthly knight

       They gie me that renown.

      “My right hand will be gloyd, lady,

       My left hand will be bare,

       Cockt up shall my bonnet be,

       And kaimd down shall my hair;

       And thae’s the takens I gie thee,

       Nae doubt I will be there.

      “They’ll turn me in your arms, lady,

       Into an esk and adder;

       But hold me fast, and fear me not,

       I am your bairn’s father.

      “They’ll turn me to a bear sae grim,

       And then a lion bold;

       But hold me fast, and fear me not,

       As ye shall love your child.

      “Again they’ll turn me in your arms

       To a red het gaud of airn;

       But hold me fast, and fear me not,

       I’ll do to you nae harm.

      “And last they’ll turn me in your arms

       Into the burning gleed;

       Then throw me into well water,

       O throw me in wi speed.

      “And then I’ll be your ain true-love,

       I’ll turn a naked knight;

       Then cover me wi your green mantle,

       And cover me out o sight.”

      Gloomy, gloomy was the night,

       And eerie was the way,

       As fair Jenny in her green mantle

       To Miles Cross she did gae.

      About the middle o’ the night

       She heard the bridles ring;

       This lady was as glad at that

       As any earthly thing.

      First she let the black pass by,

       And syne she let the brown;

       But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed,

       And pu’d the rider down,

      Sae weel she minded whae he did say,

       And young Tam Lin did win;

       Syne coverd him wi her green mantle,

       As blythe’s a bird in spring.

      Out then spak the Queen o Fairies,

       Out of a bush o broom:

       “Them that has gotten young Tam Lin

       Has gotten a stately groom.”

      Out then spak the Queen o Fairies,

       And an angry woman was she;

       “Shame betide her ill-far’d face,

       And an ill death may she die,

       For she’s taen awa the bonniest knight

       In a’ my companie.

      “But had I kend, Tam Lin,” she says,

       “What now this night I see,

       I wad hae taen out thy twa grey e’en,

       And put in twa een o tree.”

THOMAS THE RHYMER

      

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