Tam Lin
- She's taen her petticoat by the band,
Her mantle owre her arm,
And she's awa to Chester wood,
As fast as she could run. - She scarsely pulled a rose, a rose,
She searse pulled two or three,
Till up there starts Thomas
On the Lady Margeret's knee. - She 's taen her petticoat by the band,
Her mantle owre her arm,
And Lady Margeret's gane hame agen
As fast as she could run. - Up starts Lady Margeret's sister,
An angry woman was she:
If there ever was a woman wi child.
Margaret, you are wi!' - Up starts Lady Margaret's mother.
And an angry woman was she:
There grows ane herb in yon Kirk-yard
That will scathe the babe away.' - She took her petticoats by the band,
Her mantle owre her arm,
And she's gane to yon kirk-yard
As fast as she could run. - She scarcely pulled an herb, an herb,
She scarse pulled two or three,
when up starts there Thomas
upon this Lady Margret's knee. - How dare ye pull a rose? ' he says,
How dare ye break the tree?
How dare ye pull this herb,' he says,
To scathe my babe away? - This night is Halloweve,' he said,
Our court is going to waste,
And them that loves their true-love best
At Chester bridge they'll meet. - First let pass the black,' he says,
And then let pass the brown,
But when ye meet the milk-white steed,
Pull ye the rider down. - 'They'll turn me to an eagle,' he says,
'Amd then into an ass;
Come, hold me fast, and fear me not,
The man that you love best. - 'They'll turn me to a flash of fire,
And then to a naked man;
Come, wrap you your mantle me about
And then you'll have me won.' - She took her petticoats by the band,
Her mantle owre her arm,
And she's awa to Chester bridge,
As fast as she could run. - And first she did let pass the black,
And then let pass the brown,
But when she met the milk-white steed,
She pulled the rider down. - They turned him in her arms an eagle,
And then into an ass;
But she held him fast, and feared him not,
The man that she loved best. - They turned him into a flash of fire,
And then into a naked man;
But she wrapped her mantle him about,
And then she had him won. - O wae be to ye, Lady Margaret,
And an ill death may you die,
For you've robbed me of the bravest knight
That eer rode in our company.'