The Gay Goshawk

The Gay Goshawk

' O WELL is me, my gay goshawk,
' That you can speak and flee ;
' ' For you can carry a love-letter
' To my true Love from me.'

— ' O how can I carry a letter to her ?
' Or how should I her know ?
' 1 bear a tongue ne'er with her spake,
' And eyes that ne'er her saw.'

— ' O well shall ye my true Love ken
' So soon as ye her see :
' For of all the flowers of fair England,
' The fairest flower is she.

' And when she goes into the house,
' Sit ye upon the whin ;
' And sit you there and sing our loves
'As she goes out and in.'

Lord William has written a love-letter,
Put it under his pinion gray :
And he's awa' to Southern land
As fast as wings can gae.

And first he sang a low, low, note,
And then he sang a clear ;
And aye the o'erword of the sang
Was ' Your Love can no win here.'

' Feast on, feast on, my maidens all,
' The wine flows you amang ;
' While I gang to my shot-window
'And hear yon bonnie bird's sang.'

O, first he sang a merry sang.
And then he sang a grave :
And then he peck'd his feathers gray ;
To her the letter gave. ,

' Have there a letter from Lord William :
' He says, he sent ye three ;
' He can not wait your love longer,
' But for your sake he'll die.'

— ' I send him the rings from my white fingers,
' The garlands of my hair ;
' I send him the heart that's in my breast ;
' What would my Love have mair .''
'And at Mary's kirk in fair Scotland,
' Ye'll bid him wait for me there.'

She hied her to her father dear
As fast as go could she :
'An asking, an asking, my father dear,
' An asking grant you me !
' That if I die in fair England,
' In Scotland bury me.

'At the first kirk of fair Scotland,
' You cause the bells be rung ;
'At the second kirk of fair Scotland,
'You cause the mass be sung ;

' And when ye come to Saint Mary's kirk,
' Ye'll tarry there till night.'
And so her father pledged his word,
And so his promise plight.

The lady's gone to her chamber
As fast as she could fare ;
And she has drunk a sleepy draught
That she had mix'd with care.

And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek,
And pale and cold was she : —
She seem'd to be as surely dead
, As any corpse could be.

Then spake her cruel stepminnie,
' Take ye the burning lead,
' And drop a drop on her bosom,
' To try if she be dead.'

They dropp'd the hot lead on her cheek.
They dropp'd it on her chin.
They dropp'd it on her bosom white ;
But she spake none again.

Then up arose her seven brethren,
And hew'd to her a bier ;
They hew'd it from the solid oak ;
Laid it o'er with silver clear.

The first Scots kirk that they came to
They gart the bells be rung ;
The next Scots kirk that they came to
They gart the mass be sung.

But when they came to Saint Mary's kirk.
There stood spearmen in a row ;
And up and started Lord William,
The chieftain among them a'.

He rent the sheet upon her face
A little above her chin :
With rosy cheek, and ruby lip,
She look'd and laugh'd to him.

— ' A morsel of your bread, my lord !
' And one glass of your wine !
'For I have fasted these three long days
' All for your sake and mine ! '

Anon