Rosaleen Gregory, traditional ballad singer
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Broom of Cowdenknowes

Child  #217  8:00  V, OM, F & Northumbrian Smallpipes (NS).

Everyone in this ballad cheerfully lies to everyone else, but without apparent ill effects. The ‘bucht’ where the action begins is a sheep-fold;’yowes’ are ewes; and for the significance of ‘broom’, see Sheath and Knife.

“O the broom, and the bonny, bonny broom,
And the broom of the Cowdenknows!”
And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang,
I’ the bucht, milking the yowes.

The hills were high on ilka side,
An’ the bucht i’ the lirk o’ the hill,
And aye, as she sang, her voice it rang
Out-oer the head o’ yon hill.

There was a troop o’ gentlemen
Came riding merrily by,
And one o them has rode out o’ the way,
To the bucht to the bonny may.

“Weel may ye save an see, bonny lass,
An weel may ye save and see!”
“An sae wi you, ye weel-bred knight,
And what’s your will wi me?”

“The night is misty and mirk, fair may,
And I have ridden astray,
And will ye be so kind, fair may,
As come out and point my way?”

“Ride out, ride out, ye ramp rider!
Your steed’s baith stout and strang;
For out of the bucht I dare na come,
For fear that ye do me wrang.”

“O winna ye pity me, bonny lass?
O winna ye pity me?
An winna ye pity my poor steed,
Stands trembling at yon tree?”

“I wadna pity your poor steed,
Tho it were tied to a thorn;
For if ye wad gain my love the night
Ye wad slight me ere the morn.

“For I ken you by your weel-busked hat,
And your merrie twinkling ee,
That ye’re the laird o’ the Oakland hills,
As ye may weel seem for to be.

“But I am not the laird o’ the Oakland hills,
Ye’re far mistaen o’ me;
But I’m ane of the men about his house
And right aft in his companie.”

He’s taen her by the middle slim,
And by the grass-green sleeve,
He’s lifted her over the fauld-dyke,
And asked at her sma’ leave.

O he’s taen out a purse o gowd,
And stroked her yellow hair:
“Now take ye that, my bonnie may,
Of me till you hear mair.”

O he’s leapt on his berry-brown steed,
And he’s quickly o’ertaen his men;
And ane and a’ cried out to him,
“O master, ye’ve tarryd lang!”

“O I hae been east, and I hae been west,
An I hae been far oer the knows,
But the bonniest lass that ever I saw
Is i’ the bucht, milkin’ the yowes.”

She set the pail upon her head,
And she’s gane singing hame:
“O where hae ye been, my ae dochter?
For ye hae na been your lane.”

“O nae body was wi me, father,
O nae body has been wi me;
The night is misty and mirk, father,
Ye may gang to the door and see.

“But wae be to your ewe-herd, father,
And an ill death may he die!
For he built the bucht at the back o’ the brae
And a fox has frighted me.

“There came a fox to the door of the bucht,
The like I never saw;
And ere he had taken the lamb he did
I had rather he had taen them a’.”O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane,
Fifteen weeks and three,
That lassie began to look thin and pale,
An to long for his merry-twinkling ee.

It fell on a day, on a hot summer day,
She was ca’ing out her father’s kye,
By came a troop of gentlemen,
A’ merrily riding by.

“Weel may ye save an see, bonny may!
Weel may ye save and see!
Weel I ken ye be a very bonny may,
But whose is that babe ye are wi?”

Never a word could that bonny lassie say,
For she knew not who to blame,
And never a word could the bonny lassie say,
But “I have a good man at hame.”

“Ye lie, ye lie, my very bonny may,
Sae loud as I hear you lie!
For dinna ye mind that misty night
I was in the bucht wi thee?

“For I ken you by your middle sae slim,
An your merry-twinkling ee,
That ye’re the bonny lass o’ the Cowdenknowes
As ye may weel seem for to be.”

Than he’s leapd off his berry-brown steed,
An he’s set that fair may on:
“Call out your kye, gude father, yourself,
For she’ll never call them out again.

“For I am the laird of the Oakland hills,
I hae thirty plows and three,
An I hae gotten the bonniest lass
That’s in a’ the south country.”

  “O the broom, and the bonny, bonny broom,
And the broom of the Cowdenknowes!”
And aye sae sweet as the lassie sang,
I’ the bucht, milking the yowes.

Rosaleen Gregory: Sheath and Knife
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