Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/407

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DONALD OF THE ISLES.

389

Then Lizzie laid down her silk mantle,
And put on her waiting-maid's gown;
And afi and aw a' to the Hielands,
She's gane wi' this young shepherd loun.

Thro' glens and o'er mountains they wandered,
Till Lizzie had scantly a shoe;
"Alas, and O hone!" says fair Lizzie,
"Sad was the first day I saw you!

I wish I were in Edinbruch city;
For, sair, sair, this pastime I rue."
"O haud yer tongue now, bonnie Lizzie,
For yonder's the shealing, my hame;

And there's my gude auld honest mither,
That's coming to meet ye, her lane."
"O ye're welcome, ye're welcome, Sir Donald,
Ye're welcome hame to your ain!"

"O ca' me na young Sir Donald,
But ca' me Donald, my son."
And this they hae spoken in Erse,
That Lizzie might not understand

"Ye'll gae now and mak' to our supper,
A cup of the curds and green whey;
And ye'll mak' a bed o' green rashes,
Likewise a happer o' grey."

The morning was drumlie and drearie,
They lay till 'twas lang o' the day;
"Win up, win up, bonnie Lizzie,
And help at the milking the kye."

"O slowly raise up Lizzie Lindsay,
The saut tear blindit her e'e;
O were I in Edinbruch city,
The Hielands should never see me!"

He led her up to a hie mountain,
And bade her look out far and wide:
"I'm Lord o' thae Isles and the mountains,
And now you're my lady and bride.

"Sae rue na ye've come to the Hielands,
Sae rue na ye've come aff wi' me;
For ye're the Macdonald's braw lady,
And will be to the day that ye dee."