Katherine Jafray

No: 221; variant: 221I

  1. IN Bordershellin there did dwell A comely, handsome may, And Lochinvar he courted her, And stole her heart away.
  2. She loved him but owre weel, And his love drew away; Another man then courted her, And set the wedding-day,
  3. They set the wedding-day so plain, As plain as it might be; She sent a letter to her former love, The wedding to come see.
  4. When Lochinvar the letter read, He sent owre a’ his land For four and twenty beltit knichts, To come at his command.
  5. They all came to his hand, I say, Upon that wedding-day; He set them upon milk-white steeds, And put them in array.
  6. He set them in array, I say, Most pleasant to be seen, And he’s awa to the wedding-house, A single man his lane.
  7. And when he was to the wedding-house come, They wee all sitten down; Baith gentlemen and knichts was there, And lords of high renown.
  8. They saluted him, baith auld and young, Speired how he had spent the day, And what young Lankashires was yon They saw all in array.
  9. But he answerd them richt scornfullie, Upon their wedding-day; He says, It’s been some Fairy Court Ye’ve seen all in array.
  10. Then rose up the young bridegroom, And an angry man was he: ‘Lo, art thou come to fight, young man? Indeed I’ll fight wi thee.’
  11. ‘O I am not come to fight,’ he sayd, ‘But good fellowship to hae, And for to drink the wine sae red, And then I’ll go away.’
  12. Then they filld him up a brimming glass, And drank it between them twa: ‘Now one word of your bonnie bride, And then I’ll go my wa.’
  13. But some were friends, and some were faes, Yet nane o them was free To let the bride on her wedding-day Gang out o their companie.
  14. But he took her by the milk-white hand, And by the grass-green sleeve, And set her on a milk-white steed, And at nane o them speerd he leave.
  15. Then the blood ran down the Caylin bank, And owre the Caylin brae; The auld folks knew something o the sport, Which gart them cry, Foul play!
  16. Ye lusty lads of Limberdale, Tho ye be English born, Come nae mair to Scotland to court a maid, For fear ye get the scorn.
  17. For fear that ye do get the scorn Upon your wedding-day; Least ye catch frogs instead of fish, And then ye’ll ca’t foul play.