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O the Red and White Lilly, Their mother dear was dead, And their father married an ill woman, Wishd them twa little guede. Yet she had twa as fu fair sons As eer brake manis bread, And the tane of them loed her White Lilly, An the tither lood Rose the Red. O biggit ha they a bigly bowr, And strawn it oer wi san, And there was mair mirth i the ladies' bowr Than in a' their father's lan. But out is spake their step-mother, Wha stood a little foreby: I hope to live and play the prank Sal gar your loud sang ly. She's calld upon her eldest son: Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my eldest son, That ye maun sail the sea. 'Gin if fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But never war to Rose the Red Than ye ha been to me.' 'O had your tongue, my eldest son, For sma sal be her part; You'll nae get a kiss o her comely mouth Gin your very fair heart should break.' She's calld upon her youngest son: Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my youngest son, That ye maun sail the sea. 'Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to White Lilly Than ye ha been to me.' 'O haud your tongue, my youngest son, For sma sall be her part; You'll neer get a kiss o her comely mouth Tho your very fair heart should break.' When Rose the Red and White Lilly Saw their twa loves were gane, Then stopped ha they their loud, loud sang, And tane up the still mournin; And their step-mother stood listnin by, To hear the ladies' mean. Then out it spake her White Lilly: My sister, we'll be gane; Why should we stay in Barnsdale, To waste our youth in pain? Then cutted ha they their green cloathing A little below their knee, An sae ha they there yallow hair, A little aboon there bree; An they've doen them to haely chapel, Was christened by Our Lady. There ha they chang'd their ain twa names, Sae far frae ony town, An the tane o them hight Sweet Willy, An the tither o them Roge the Roun. Between this twa a vow was made, An they sware it to fulfil; That at three blasts o a bugle-horn, She'd come her sister till. Now Sweet Willy's gane to the kingis court, Her true-love for to see, An Roge the Roun to good green wood, Brown Robin's man to be. As it fell out upon a day They a' did put the stane, Full seven foot ayont them a' She gard the puttin-stane gang. She leand her back against an oak, And gae a loud Ohone! Then out it spake him Brown Robin, But that's a woman's moan! 'O ken ye by my red rose lip? Or by my yallow hair? Nor ken ye by my milk-white breast? For ye never saw it bare?' ken no by your red rose lip, Nor by your yallow hair; Nor ken I by your milk-white breast, For I never saw it bare; But come to your bowr whaever sae likes, Will find a lady there.' 'O gin ye come to my bowr within, Thro fraud, deceit, or guile, Wi this same bran that's in my han, I swear I will the kill.' 'But I will come thy bowr within, An spear nae leave,' quoth he; 'An this same bran that's i my han I sall ware back on the.' About the tenth hour of the night The ladie's bower-door was broken, An eer the first hour of the day The bonny knave-bairn was gotten. When days were gane, and months were run, The lady took travailing, And sair she cry'd for a bowr-woman, For to wait her upon. Then out it spake him Brown Robin: Now what needs a' this din? For what coud any woman do But I coud do the same? 'Twas never my mither's fashion,' she says, 'Nor sall it ever be mine, That belted knights shoud eer remain Where ladies dreed their pine. 'But ye take up that bugle-horn, An blaw a blast for me; I ha a brother in the kingis court Will come me quickly ti.' 'O gin ye ha a brither on earth That ye love better nor me, Ye blaw the horn yoursel,' he says, 'For ae blast I winna gie.' She's set the horn till her mouth, And she's blawn three blasts sae shrill; Sweet Willy heard i the kingis court, And came her quickly till. Then up it started Brown Robin, An an angry man was he: 'There comes nae man this bowr within But first must fight wi me.' O they hae fought that bowr within Till the sun was gaing down, Till drops o blude frae Rose the Red Came hailing to the groun. She leand her back against the wa, Says, Robin, let a' be; For it is a lady born and bred That's foughten sae well wi thee. O seven foot he lap a back; Says, Alas, and wae is me! I never wishit in a' my life, A woman's blude to see; An a' for the sake of ae fair maid Whose name was White Lilly. Then out it spake her White Lilly, An a hearty laugh laugh she: She's lived wi you this year an mair, Tho ye kentna it was she. Now word has gane thro a' the lan, Before a month was done, That Brown Robin's man, in good green wood, Had born a bonny young son.