7
“O brither, this is nae the priest;
I fear he’ll come o’er late;
For armed men wi’ shining brands
Stand at the castle yett.”
“Hasten Donald, Duncan, Dugald, Hugh,
Haste, tak’ your sword and spear;
We’ll gar these traytors rue the bour;
That e’er they ventured here.”
The Highlandmen drew their claymores,
And ga’e a warlike shout;
But Johnnie’s merry men kept the yett,
Nae ane durst venture out.
The lovers rade the lee-lang night,
And safe got on their way;
And bonnie Baby Livingstone
Has gotten Johnnie Hay.
“Awa’ Glenlyon! fy for shamo!
Gae hide you in some den;
You’ve latten your bride be stown frae you,
For a’ your armed men.”
THE TWA MARTYRS’ WIDOWS.
⟨Sit⟩ down, sit down by thy martyr’s side,
⟨And⟩ I’se sit down by mine;
⟨And⟩ I shall speak o’ him to my Gude,
⟨And⟩ thou may speak o’ thine.
