ad _pale_.
6.2: 'deight,' _i.e._ dight, decked, dressed.
15.1: 'thresel-cock,' throstle, thrush.
27.4: 'wood,' wild, fierce.]

THE BONNY BIRDY

+Text.+--From the Jamieson-Brown MS. Jamieson, in printing this ballad,
enlarged and rewrote much of it, making the burden part of the dialogue
throughout.

+The Story+ is much the same as that of _Little Musgrave and Lady
Barnard_; but the ballad as a whole is worthy of comparison with the
longer English ballad for the sake of its lyrical setting.

THE BONNY BIRDY

1.
There was a knight, in a summer's night,
Was riding o'er the lee, _(diddle)_
An' there he saw a bonny birdy,
Was singing upon a tree. _(diddle)_

O wow for day! _(diddle)_
An' dear gin it were day! _(diddle)_
Gin it were day, an' gin I were away,
For I ha' na lang time to stay. _(diddle)_

2.
'Make hast, make hast, ye gentle knight,
What keeps you here so late?
Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,
I fear you woud look blate.'

3.
'O what needs I toil day an' night,
My fair body to kill,
Whan I hae knights at my comman',
An' ladys at my will?'

4.
'Ye lee, ye lee, ye gentle knight,
Sa loud's I hear you lee;
Your lady's a knight in her arms twa
That she lees far better nor thee.'

5.
'Ye lee, ye lee, you bonny birdy,
How you lee upo' my sweet!
I will tak' out my bonny bow,
An' in troth I will you sheet.'

6.
'But afore ye hae your bow well bent,
An' a' your arrows yare,
I will flee till another tree,
Whare I can better fare.'

7.
'O whare was you gotten, and whare was ye clecked?
My bonny birdy, tell me';
'O I was clecked in good green wood,
Intill a holly tree;
A gentleman my nest herryed
An' ga' me to his lady.

8.
'Wi' good white bread an' farrow-cow milk
He bade her feed me aft,
An' ga' her a little wee simmer-dale wanny,
To ding me sindle and saft.

9.
'Wi' good white bread an' farrow-cow milk
I wot she fed me nought,
But wi' a little wee simmer-dale wanny
She dang me sair an' aft:
Gin she had deen as ye her bade,
I wouldna tell how she has wrought.'

10.
The knight he rade, and the birdy flew,
The live-lang simmer's night,
Till he came till his lady's bow'r-door,
Then even down he did light:
The birdy sat on the crap of a tree,
An' I wot it sang fu' dight.

11.