‘I dought neither speak to prince or peer,
   Nor ask of grace from fair ladye!’—
‘Now haud thy peace, Thomas,’ she said,
   ‘For as I say, so must it be.’

He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
   And a pair o’ shoon of the velvet green;
And till seven years were gane and past,
   True Thomas on earth was never seen.

380   Tam Lin


‘O I forbid you, maidens a’,
   That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
   For young Tam Lin is there.

‘For even about that knight’s middle
   O’ siller bells are nine;
And nae maid comes to Carterhaugh
   And a maid returns again.’

Fair Janet sat in her bonny bower,
   Sewing her silken seam,
And wish’d to be in Carterhaugh
   Amang the leaves sae green.

She’s lat her seam fa’ to her feet,
   The needle to her tae,1
And she’s awa’ to Carterhaugh
   As fast as she could gae.

And she has kilted her green kirtle
   A little abune her knee;
And she has braided her yellow hair
   A little abune her bree;2
And she has gaen for Carterhaugh
   As fast as she can hie.

She hadna pu’d a rose, a rose,
   A rose but barely ane,
When up and started young Tam Lin;
   Says, ‘Ladye, let alane.

‘What gars ye pu’ the rose, Janet?
   What gars ye break the tree?
What gars ye come to Carterhaugh
   Without the leave o’ me?’

‘Weel may I pu’ the rose,’ she says,
   ‘And ask no leave at thee;
For Carterhaugh it is my ain,
   My daddy gave it me.’

He’s ta’en her by the milk-white hand,
   And by the grass-green sleeve,
He’s led her to the fairy ground
   At her he ask’d nae leave.

Janet has kilted her green kirtle
   A little abune her knee,
And she has snooded her yellow hair
   A little abune her bree,
And she is to her father’s ha’
   As fast as she can hie.

But when she came to her father’s ha’,
   She look’d sae wan and pale,
They thought the lady had gotten a fright,
   Or with sickness she did ail.

Four and twenty ladies fair
   Were playing at the ba’,
And out then came fair Janet
   Ance the flower amang them a’.

Four and twenty ladies fair
   Were playing at the chess,
And out then came fair Janet
   As green as onie glass.

Out then spak’ an auld grey knight
   Lay owre the Castle wa’,
And says, ‘Alas, fair Janet!
   For thee we’ll be blamàed a’.’

‘Hauld your tongue, ye auld-faced knight,
   Some ill death may ye die!
Father my bairn on whom I will,
   I’ll father nane on thee.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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