Edward, Edward - A Scottish Ballad (anon.)

Why does your brand sae drop wi' bluid
Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand sae drop wi' bluid?
And why so sad gang thee, O?

O, I hae killed my hawk sae guid
Mither, mither.
O, I hae killed my hawk sae guid
And I had nae mair but he, O.

Your hawk's bluid was never sae reid,
Edward, Edward.
Your hawks bluid was never sae reid,
My dear son I tell thee, O.

O, I hae killed my reid-roan steed,
Mither, Mither.
O, I hae killed my reid-roan steed,
That erst was sae fair and free, O.

Your steed was auld, and you hae more
Edward, Edward.
Your steed was auld, and you hae more
Some other duel you drie, O.

O, I hae killed my faither dear,
Mither, Mither.
O, I hae killed my faither dear.
Alas and woe is me, O!

And what penance will you drie for that
Edward, Edward?
And what penance will you drie for that
My dear son, now tell me, O.

I'll set my feet in yonder boat
Mither, Mither.
I'll set my feet in yonder boat
And I'll fare over the sea, O.

And what will you do wi' your towers and your hall
Edward, Edward?
And what will you do wi' your towers and your hall
That were so fair to see, O?

I'll let them stand til they down fall,
Mither, Mither.
I'll let them stand til they down fall,
For here never mair maun I'll be, O.

And what will you leave to your bairns and your wife
Edward, Edward?
And what will you leave to your bairns and your wife
When you gang over the sea, o?

The world's room, let them beg through life
Mither, Mither.
The world's room, let them beg through life
For them never more will I see, O.

And what will you leave your own mother dear,
Edward, Edward?
And what will you leave your own mother dear?
My dear son, now tell me, O.

The curse of Hell frae me shall you bear
Mither, Mither.
The curse of Hell frae me you shall you bear,
Sic councils you gave to me, O.


From Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Says Percy: "This curious song was transmitted to the Editor by Sir David Dalrypmle." Modernised spelling by me.




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