< Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu
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6 The curse of hell frae me sail ye bear,

Mither, mither;

The curse of hell frae me sail ye bear: Sic counsels ye gave to me, O ! '

��374. Edom o Gordon

TT fell about the Martinmas,

  • When the wind blew shrill and cauld,

Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, 6 We maun draw to a hauld.

4 And what a hauld sail we draw to,

My merry men and me ? We will gae to the house o' the Rodes,

To see that fair ladye/

The lady stood on her castle wa', Beheld baith dale and down ;

There she was ware of a host of men Cam riding towards the town.

i O see ye not, my merry men a',

see ye not what I see ? Methinks I see a host of men ;

1 marvel wha they be/

She ween'd it had been her lovely lord,

As he cam riding hame ; It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon,

Wha reck'd nae sin nor shame.

town] stead.

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