Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics:
Hind Horn
Hind Horn
Hind Horn
Hind Horn fair and Hind horn free
Oh where were you born, in what country?
In good greenwood, thee was I born
And all by forebears me beforn
Oh, seven years I served the king
And as for wages I never got nane
But ae sight of his ae daughter
And that was through an auger bore
I gaed my love a silver wand
'Twas to rule over all Scotland
And she gave me a gay gold ring
The virtue of it was above all things
As long as this ring keeps its hue
You'll know I am a lover true
But when the ring turns pale and wan
You'll know I love another man
He hoist up his sails and away sailed he
And sailed into a far country
And when he looked upon his ring
He knew she loved another man
He hoist up sails and home came he
Home unto his own country
The first he met on his own land
It chanced to be a beggar man
What news, what news, my good old man?
What news, what news, have you to me?
Nae news, nae news, said the old man
The morn's the queen's wedding day
Will you lend me your begging weed?
And I'll lend you my riding steed
My begging weed would ill suit thee
And your riding steed will ill suit me
But part be right and part be wrong
Frae the beggar man the cloak he won
Old man, come tell me to your lead
What news you give when you earn your bread?
As you walk up unto the hill
Your pike staff you lend ye till
But when ye come near by the yett
Straight to them you will upstep
Take nane from Peter nor from Paul
Nane from high or low of them all
And from them all he would take nane
Until it came from the bride's ain hand
The bride came tripping down the stair
The combs of red gold all in her hair
A cup of red wine in her hand
And that she gave to the beggar man
Out of the cup he drank the wine
And into the cup he dropped the ring
Oh, got ye't by sea or got ye't by land
Or got ye't on a drownd man's hand?
I got it not by sea, nor got it by land
Nor got I it on a dead man's hand
But I got it at my wooing gay
And I'll gie't you on your wedding day
I'll take the red gold frae my head
And follow you and beg my bread
I'll take the red gold frae my hair
And follow you forever mair
Between the kitchen and the hall
He let his coutie cloak downfall
And with red gold shone over them all
And frae the bridegroom the bride he stole
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Child #17
Collected by Child and Gavin
SOF